There's something about the dead of night. It makes us ponder over the deepest questions. The last 2 nights, Anne cried briefly, asking us, "Can I go back to my house?"
We'd have granted that wish in a second if we could, dear girl. We're sorry to have made you homesick at so tender an age. I can't help but wonder if she inherited my tendency for routine and averseness to change. In a time where the world is global, the workforce mobile and friends easily made and lost, would I be crippling her if I shielded her from change?
Despite having entertained thoughts of living abroad, I've never done so. Yet despite my best efforts to keep everything in the same place we first begun, most of our close friends have moved. This trip to New Zealand to attend the wedding of a friend is one such instance. Even home – Singapore – isn't the same.
Are Singaporeans conditioned to reject change? After all, our government tells us ever so often that should we elect a different administration the world would surely crumble and fall. So we stick to the same, thinking that it is the best. We fear the unknown, giving it more respect that it deserves. Even when all signs point to embracing change, Singaporeans hold back. Are we an insecure people, constantly needing affirmation by way of topping surveys, rankings and competitions?
Do I hold on to what I have because it is all I know, and therefore the known is better than the unknown? Have I allowed God the opportunity to speak, as He did to Abraham, and ask of me my future – the collective futures of my family? That all I'd trust is His hand. Not what I know, or hold, ot am familiar with.
A few moments ago Anne, half asleep, asked if I could sing. I sang a few repetitions of "Twinkle twinkle little star". The dry air here really tears your throat apart.

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