There's something really heartening about...

An excerpt of a friend’s e-mail I received today read:

“A cuddle and a hot drink are better than medicine for treating a child's cough, a new study has found…. Cough syrups had no impact whatsoever on the duration or severity of coughing, US scientists concluded after studying 100 children with upper respiratory infections. Prof Colin Robertson, respiratory specialist at Melbourne's Royal Children's Hospital, said the finding came as no surprise. "We know that over-the-counter cough preparations make no difference to coughs," he is reported by the Australian Associated Press as saying.

He said Australians were spending several million dollars a year on cough preparations "because when a child has a cough you feel obliged to do something and there's marketing out there that tells you all these wonderful claims about their therapy.” The best way to treat a cough is to comfort the child and offer them a hot soothing drink.”

Hmm… I don’t know if the same treatment can be used on adult who has a cough. Nevertheless, I must agree that there’s something very heartening to be comforted by and offered a soothing drink from an innocent child.

The other day when I went to Yam’s place, I was first greeted and entertained by elder daughter, Khadijah Najwa. She had just celebrated her fifth birthday. As a belated birthday present, I bought Khadijah a small dollhouse, complete with accessories such as miniscule TV set, bed, sofa, kitchen counter, fridge and all. While waiting for Yam and Lat, I helped out Khadijah with opening the gift-wrapper, taking it out from the box, opening up all the latches and deciding the suitable positions for all the accessories in the two-storey dollhouse.

I answered numerous questions and explained the functions of each tiny accessory. Khadijah has been raised up in a bilingual household and enrolled in a Montessori kindergarten, so we ended up conversing mostly in English.

“Should I put this here?” Khadijah seemed a bit hesitant in placing a mini bathtub next to the kitchen counter on the first floor. Together, we had already determined that the bedroom would be upstairs; while the kitchen, the dining and the living room would be on the ground floor. No decision as yet on the bathroom.

“Are you sure you want the girls to have their bath next to the living room?” I tested her.

“Hmmm… no. Let’s put this upstairs then…” She proceeded to put it next to the night lamp with a book/a magazine on it.

Nice choice, I thought to myself, the ‘girls’ (two mini persons, supposedly to be the owners of the house) could always enjoy a bath while reading a good book then.

“Auntie, please wait here, ok,” Right after she finished placing the bath tub, Khadijah asked me to sit tight as she ran to the kitchen.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Yam’s bibik came out with a tray, carrying a few glasses and a jug of Sunquick cordial. As soon as she put it on the table, Khadijah carefully filled up two glasses with the cold drinks. Then she took one glass and brought it to me, “Here Auntie, please have a drink”

I was simultaneously impressed and proud of my goddaughter. Khadijah is the eldest child of my close friend Yam, who married Lat, my friend-cum-editor back when I was writing for a bulletin-with-limited-circulation in UK. I asked for the honour of being their eldest child’s godmother before Khadijah was born – and both Yam and Lat agreed.

Thus, despite my occasional visits, despite Khadijah knowing Auntie Masni (a close friend of Yam’s & me) better than Auntie A.Z., Khadijah has always have a special place in my heart. When she was a baby, I spent more on buying her new clothes than my own. When she was a toddler, I also shared some of Yam’s pride watching her performing with her nursery mates during a mini-concert (although I only caught it on video). Then , the following year, there was that entertaining sports day video. I tried never to miss sending Khadijah her birthday gifts, and I checked on her progress with Yam from time to time.

Yam and Lat arrived when I’d already finished my first glass of drinks, and Khadijah was proudly showing me her prowess in beyblading. I half-jokingly told Yam her daughter could make a far better hostess than the mother... "Yeah, I know. Khadijah had been calling me numerous times even before you arrived," Yam admitted. I grinned.

Honestly, there’s something really heartening to be waited by and served a soothing drink by a five-year-old.