My mother kept a scrapbook where she kept pictures of me during various stages of growing up, and I happened to stumble upon it in the attic the other day when I visited her. I was surprised that it’s still in good condition, apart from the yellowing of the pages and cover.
Seeing the scrapbook, I gather that I was quite a fussy and grumpy baby whenever I’m among the crowds, and I could be seen attaching myself like a little koala bear to either my mum or dad during family gatherings or parties. There’s hardly pictures of me smiling sweetly at the camera. I look sulky and near to crying.
But that all changed when I grew up a little bit. I was five years old when I started enjoying the crowd’s attention, especially from my family and loved ones though I can still be a bit shy among strangers.
There’s this one particular picture that almost slipped from my memories. It was my first formal Christmas party. I was wearing a midnight blue dress adorned with glittering silver stars. My mother made the dress for me. She sew them for nights as a Christmas present for me, and I’ve worn it to my first formal Christmas party hosted by our distant relatives.
I could still remember how envious my cousins are, and how my mother beamed with pride during the party. The dress was truly exquisite.
I did not know how long my mother spent to make that dress for me, but I could still remember that she spent a lot of sleepless nights, burning the midnight oil just to make that dress for me. Mothers these days are so lucky that they can actually order custom-made kids fancy dress for their precious children. I couldn’t imagine myself sewing for my sons or my daughters the way my mother did. I’d probably give up half way through, considering that patience and attentiveness is not my forte.