What If He Could Change the World?

It was the school holidays, and my five-year-old cousin was spending time at my house. I wasn't terrible enthusiastic about him coming over as I was trying to write my entry fro an essay competition, I was having difficulty with the topic, which was If I could change the world. Thoughts in issues like racism, poverty, and was were swirling in my mind and I was wondering what I could do to make a difference. Heavy stuff....

So I was not pleased when my cousin came to bug me. But I had promised Mum I'd take care of him - she wanted me to "learn responsibility and discipline" before she'd consider letting me get my own car. So there I was, sitting beside my cute little cousin in the backyard. The hot weather was making me drowsy even as it sparked hazy thought on global warming. Then I was rudely shocked out of my dreams by cries of "Koko, koko" (big brother) from my cousin. "Koko, why the grass stand there, don't move one? Just now they wave to me, now they don't like me. Why?" asked my cousin, sounding upset. Before I could explain that it was the wind that had made them "wave" before, and that it was rare for a breeze to come by at this time of the day, he broke into another loud cry.

Tugging my sleeve, he quickly pulled me off the grass and onto the walkway, shouting in excitement, "I know, I know! They sad we step on them! See, see! Now they wave again!" The rare breeze had appeared and the plants and grass in my backyard started "waving" gently. A huge smile broke out on my cousin's sweaty face, and I couldn't resist smiling at the sight.

Soon, though, he was tired of playing outdoors and wanted to rest. So I suggested doing some drawing and painting in the house. But before he left the yard, he bowed and thanked all plants that were "bowing" to him too. I couldn't help but smile again.

After giving him paper and crayons, I went back to my computer and stared at the blank screen. Facts and figures and opinions about all those heavy issues swirled in my mind but I was no closer to beginning my essay. Shaking my head in disgust, I looked for distraction and turned to my cousin, finding him totally engrossed in him painting. Curious, I looked over his shoulder.

It was a fairly typical drawing for a little kid; there were trees, birds, mountains, the sun, a big house with a chimney (why do Malaysian kids persist in drawing chimneys even though we don't have them here? The influence of Westernised TV, obviously!) and three buildings with people in front of them.

The buildings, said my cousin earnestly, were "houses" he had seen while being driven over. Interestingly, these "houses" were shaped roughly like a mosque and Hindu and Chinese temples. Then I noticed that all the people in the picture had orange coloured skin. Being the older, wiser one, of course, I started to correct him, telling him that the person in front of the mosque should have brown skin, the one near the Indian temple should have darker skin than that and the person by the Chinese temple should have lighter coloured skin.

But my little cousin was having none of it.

"No, no, Koko. Teacher say all people only one colour. I see them all also one colour. They same like us. They like to smile and be happy. Why, Koko, you say they different? You wrong, Koko," my little cousin said firmly to me.

I didn't agree and tried to persuade him to change the colours but he was adamant. I tried explaining again about race and religion, but he kept on repeating "same one, same one" to me. Giving up in disgust, I returned to my seat in front of the computer and began mulling over how to write about racism.

It was in the evening before my cousin brother finished him artwork. It was really impressive by his standards, and I awarded him a kiss on his cheek for putting so much effort into it. I saw that the men in his drawing were now all holding hands, which was not what he had drawn at first, so I asked him about the change.

"Koko made me change. I told you they same, you don't know. So I draw them hold hands! Now they like brothers, they love each other," my cousin said sternly, looking for understanding in my face. I finally gave up and told him I believed what he said. For that, I was rewarded with a kiss on my cheek too.

It was night-time and I was still in front of my computer, trying to find inspiration. Then came my cousin brother again. He wanted to go to bed. He was very tired after a whole day of playing.

After I made a small bed for him alongside mine, he settled in but before sleeping, he said this prayer: "Dear Papa God, thank you for giving me nice day! Thank you for giving me Koko. I like him very much. I want to sleep now. I pray that other children in the world can sleep like me and be happy every day, so now I put one dollar here. I hope you give this to them. Amen."

I kissed him good night and he went to sleep.

As I sat down once more in front of that demanding computer screen to ponder those big issues again, the peaceful face of my little cousin brother sparked these thoughts:

If I could change the world, maybe I should make everyone show as much respect for each other and for all living things as my cousin brother did to the grass and plants?

If I could change the world, maybe I should teach people to treat one another without discrimination and not see different skin colours, just as my cousin brother portrayed the people in his painting?

If I could change the world, maybe I should teach people to be more generous in giving others a portion of what we have, just as my cousin brother gives up his one dollar every day?

A I looked at my cousin brother snoring in his sleep, I thought in awe, what a world it would be if he could change it.

Written by Cheah Kok Hin
Posted in Starmag