"THE PERFECT HOLIDAYS"

During my holidays, my aunt persuaded me to work as a volunteer at an Old Folks' Home. This was a private home with quite a number of facilities such as single rooms, a private garden, a library an audio-visual room. It was staffed with nurses. Still, my aunt, the supervisor, wanted someone who would just chat or play board games with the residents. The home was quite a distance from my house so my aunt arranged for me to stay in. I had a tiny room and bathroom to myself.

My jobs were to help at meal times and keep the folks company. On the first day, I felt Quite apprehensive. There was about a dozen old men and woman living there. One or two were confined to wheelchairs. To my seventeen-year-old eyes, they all looked ancient.

After breakfast, I played chess with an old man with twinkling eyes. His name was Uncle Raman. I planned to make him win so that he would feel good. To my surprise, he won easily. Later, I found out that he used to be a champion in his younger days. In the days that followed I played regularly with him. He taught me many new moves.

In the same way, I discovered that Madam Bibi had worked a dancer sixty years old after the Second World War. She was still very graceful. Another resident, Auntie Sal had lost her entire family many years ago. Some kind distant relatives had sold her house and given the home the money so that she would always have a roof over her head and people to take care of her. Aunt Sal would often tell me stories of her life. They were always interesting. If Madam Bibi passed by during one of the sessions, she would sniff and say, "Huh" I could tell you stories that would make your hair stand on end!"

There were many stories that these people shared with me. Often, these men and women came from comfortable backgrounds. Unfortunately, their families could not take care of them and so they ended up here. Very few suffered from serious illnesses. They were all relatively healthy. The only thing they lacked was loved and company. I tried to provide them will as much of these as I could.

One night, my aunt organised a dance. She put on music from about fifty years ago. Madam Bibi's eyes lit up. She floated to the dance to the dance floor and moved ever so gently. For the first time in my life, I realised what a beautiful woman she must have been in her youth.

When my holidays ended, I felt incredibly sad. My new friends had given me so much. They had taught me chess and dancing. They had shared stories about themselves. About all, they had shown me how incredibly lonely old age can be. Yet, none of them ever complained or felt self-pity.

They were good people. They helped me to grow up.