The Girl From Kampar

I flipped the wallet opened to pay for the 4 cups cappuccino we had earlier. My friend’s wife looked at the wallet and said, “It is time for a new wallet. Your wallet looked old and worn. Your Birthday is around the corner; let me buy you a new wallet as a gift to you.” I smiled weakly at her and in a low voice replied, “Thanks but I think I will stick with this one a little bit longer.”

Nineteen years ago, I stood at the airport arrival lounge waiting for her. The plane has landed and it was over an hour past and she was not out yet. I checked the flight details, it was correct. Where is she, I wondered? Did she change her mind? Is she lost? Is she hurt? The wait was killing me.

My mind wondered back 16 years ago, I was nineteen, then, when I first saw her. My eyes spied her when I was in the company of young people after a Church service. She was there smiling and chatting with her friends. The smile, that sweet smile caught my attention. It is a sweet and cheeky smile. I could not tear my eyes from her.

I plucked up my courage and approached her. “Hello”, I introduced myself, “My name is SH”. She shook my hand with a firm hand and shyly whispered, “I am Christine”. We caught on like wild fire. She had an infectious smile and laughter. Her eyes sparkled and she was soft spoken and gentle. She was beautiful.

The remaining few days we got to know each other better.

It was time to go, with sadness I said goodbye to her and promised to write. We wrote to each other almost everyday.

I remembered on my 2^nd trip up, my friend WL and decided to drop in to her place before we went to WL place. We rang the door bell, she opened the door. Her jaw almost dropped when she saw us. She was in her apron, her hair unkempt and her hands were covered in flour. She shrieked and ran into the kitchen. We had a good laugh and her sardine rolls was the tastiest I have ever eaten. Yes, sir!

One day, she wrote she was leaving for overseas to further her studies. I went to the airport to send her off. I was sad, she was sad. She promised to write.

She did write regularly for a while and after some time it became less frequent. I took it easy, maybe because of her studies and exam. One day my letter was returned to me unopened. She moved and I did not hear from her until she finished her studies and returned home. We kept contact for a while and then she disappeared again.

I often wonder why? What was she afraid of? Why does she keep disappearing on & off? Is it because I am poor? Is it because I do not have a college or a university degree? Is she afraid of commitment? Is she afraid of the future? Is she afraid to take the journey of faith with me? I have waited and I have being patient. I could not wait, I moved on.

One afternoon checking the mail, after a year I migrated with my wife to Down Under, I saw a mail with familiar handwriting. Emotion came over me. She wrote to say hi and enquired how I was. I continued to correspond with her. A year later she wrote she is coming to visit Australia and if we could put her up. We wrote back, yes, she is welcome to stay with us.

Then, I saw her coming out of the immigration. She looked different. She had facial makeup and I almost could not recognize her. She was not happy. As we wheeled her luggage to the car, she blurted, she was stripped search and questioned by the immigration officers. They asked her, “What was the purpose of her trip and why she is here”. After some tough questions, she remembered my letter asking her to come and stay with us. She showed it to the officers and they let her through. She was fuming and annoyed. I asked her why? The officers have mistaken her as a call girl. I laughed out but stopped quickly as my wife stared at me.

During her stay, she was always deep in thought. She no longer laughed or smiles like she used to. I sense she was unhappy, she was searching for something. I wanted to ask her what was troubling her but I did not want her to think that I am prying. We did our best to make her stay as comfortable as possible.

After the first week with us, she gave me a wallet. “Happy Birthday to you”, she wishes me. She remembered my birthday after all these years. After 2 weeks with us, she returned home and I never heard from her again.

Every night before I sleep, I whispered to God to take care of her wherever she is and wherever she goes. Whatever she is looking for I hope she finds it. No matter what, she touched my life. She made an impact in my life. I, too, was changed.

God had a plan and a purpose why we met each other and loved each other. I may not know or understand it now but I hope to ask God when I see him one day.

I am sorry if I broke your heart. They say time will heal a broken heart but will it fix a broken heart?

I know because mine was broken, too.

She is the girl from Kampar. Now you know why this wallet is precious to me.