Thirteen of May 1969, there was race riot in Malaysia; he became one of the refugees. Year 1970, great flood of Malaysia made him homeless.
He lives in a poor family since he was born; his life became worse since 1969, as the Malays had taken away all the valuables his family had. He was the only one who can afford to study in his family, he work hard, always got number one in his school. He also helped to deliver newspaper every morning in order to earn money for his family, while he was only 10.
He couldn’t afford to eat anything better than porridge and pickles and bread, which he never fully filled his stomach, except once.
Until now, he couldn’t forget the day when he had his first wantan noodles. He remember clearly that day, after the flood in Year 1970, when he was 10, walking back home from school. He saw an aunty busy selling wantan noodles. His pocket got no money, and he never dare to eat this kind of expensive food. He walked to the stall, gazed at the aunty, smell the free sweet smell of the wantan noodles. He really envied those customers who could afford the wantan noodles, regardless the fact that he has coveted. He took his bag and prepared to leave.
Then he saw the mountain of bowls behind the stall. The afternoon time was boring to him. Without thinking, he squat in front of the mountain of plates and started to do what he used to do every day.
Nobody noticed him, he didn’t notice anybody either. To him, it’s a good way to spend his afternoon time. This could be a kind of entertainment to the children from poor family. He had nothing to think of; he concentrated on cleaning the bowls.
He prepared to leave while the sky turned dark. He took his schoolbag, then he noticed a bowl of delicious wantan noodle on a table.He curiously walk over to the table, the bowl of wonton noodle was still warm, seemed like just cooked by the aunty.
That was his remuneration, the aunty had prepared that for his hard work, The aunty had left, leaving a note under the bowl of wantan noodle “Thanks for your help; this bowl of wantan noodle is specially made for you.”
Warm steam slowly rising from the bowl, that was the most delicious food he ever had in his life. He didn’t expect for any reward. The sky turned dark as cold breeze blew, tears dropped from his face when the he drink the warm wantan soup. He felt so hungry after a day of hard work, but this was the first time he slowly, slowly tasted his dinner.
When he grew older, and success in his business, his memory makes wantan noodle his favorite food. Although he has tasted infinite types of wantan noodles, for an unknown reason, he feels that the most delicious wantan noodle that he ever ate was that first bowl of wantan noodle.
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