Blessing Through Raindrops

For so many years, Uncle’s face has been the image of kindness and simplicity—quietly guarding the humble essence of life.

His stall is modest, just about the size of three long tables. He sells kway teow, rice noodles, alkaline noodles, and about five types of tofu-based items, along with fish balls, bean sprouts, and tempeh. He stands the whole time, from early morning until he packs up—around 2:30 p.m.

Today, I bought some kway teow, rice noodles, bean sprouts, six pieces of tofu, and two pieces of tempeh. Uncle said, “Nine ringgit and sixty cents.”
I handed him a red ten-dollar note and said, “Keep the change.”

Uncle gave me a skewer of five-spice fritters and said repeatedly, “Delicious, delicious—try it.”
My eyes welled up with tears.

This is the fragrance that belongs uniquely to Singaporeans—the warmth between one person and another.

Poem: The Warmth Before the Stall

How many sunrises and sunsets have passed,
Yet Uncle’s smile has never changed.
Three long tables hold up more than just a livelihood—
They hold the warmth of this city.

Kway teow rolls in hot broth,
Rice noodles carry the taste of time.
Bean sprouts—crisp like a pure heart,
The five-spice skewer carries the aroma of everyday life.

A nine-sixty transaction,
A ten-dollar note of quiet generosity.
Within the simple words “keep the change”
Lies the unpretentious heart of a Singaporean.

A skewer of five-spice given in return,
A gentle “delicious, delicious” in parting—
That moment of teary eyes,
Is proof of hearts connecting.

This is our fragrance—
Not found in expensive perfumes,
But in the everyday encounters at a food stall,
In the simple yet deep warmth between people.

Oh Singapore, dear Singapore,
Your beauty isn’t in towering skyscrapers,
But in every ordinary corner,
In every touch between heart and heart.