I went through my father's (or what used to be his because it's mine now) stamp and first day covers (FDCs) collection this afternoon.
However, what caught my attention was not the philatelic wealth before me,
It didn't take me long, however, to realise that these were the prints of a very mischievous seven-year-old
My father caught me red handed that day and told me that in time, all of them would be mine.
He taught me how to sieve the good stamps from the bad (damaged perforations, crossed out by over-zealous postmen);
Like everything that happens around us,
Everytime I break up, I learn what to look for in a man.
I believe I was graced with certain disadvantages and certain imperfections so that I may enjoy whatever was right in my life.
I believe that everything happens for a purpose.
The seven-year-old has grown up now. And she won't stain her father's stamps anymore.
Margaret Alexandria Yoong
Fate
I must say, I'm pretty amazed by what he's managed to collect over the years.
Stamps from every conceivable corner of the world and FDCs of events that have earned a place in our history books.
Hell, he's even got one commemorating man's first landing on the moon!
but rather an odd fingerprint stamped across a very old stamp from the days when the Japanese occupied Malaya.
It caught my attention because like me, my father is very meticulous with his "treasures"
and isn't one to have held his stamps with his bare hands
- yes, he uses tweezers, which is the proper thing to do.
secretly flipping through her father's stamp album while eating chocolate.
You see, her father kept them in a really high cupboard and forbade her to touch them,
for reasons that probably are quite obvious.
And what we can't have, we always want.
After all, he couldn't take them to his grave now, could he?
However, till that day came, I'd have to learn how to take care of them.
how to appreciate postmarks (yes, he collects them too);
how to float the envelopes in the water just long enough for them to come off but not enough to get them soggy and fade away the prints;
how to take them out of the water and dry them ever so delicately;
and how to keep them in the albums ever so gently.
If this sounds tedious, it's because it was.
But it prepared me for what I have now - a set collected with equally painstaking efforts by my father over three decades.
you never really know why certain things happen until you look at the sequence of events years later in retrospect.
Everytime I am stabbed in the back by friends I hold close to my heart (and considering most of them are girls, it happens quite lot),
I learn how to appreciate those around me which haven't done so yet.
Everytime I fall, I learn how to pick myself up and continue walking with my sights set ahead;
because if you keep looking back at where you fell, you're only just going to fall into another hole straight ahead.
I don't believe in giving myself excuses.
If I make a mistake, I wallow in a little self-pity, deal with it, and move on.
I believe I was made to work for whatever I have so that I may not take whatever is around me for granted;
so that when I go out into this world on my own, I do not assume that everything will fall onto my lap at a snap of my fingers.
I believe that like my father guided me through my philatelic journey, my Father guides me through my Life journey.
February 24, 2003