Showing compassion in a multiracial community is not difficult  ¢â‚¬“ all you have to do is follow your heart.By CAPTAIN L.W. SIM

AS a little boy growing up in a multi-racial fishing village in Malacca in the early 1960s, I could run freely through the houses, boat sheds, churches, temples and mosque in the vicinity.

This was Praya Lane, that quaint village off Banda Hilir, where, like most fishing villages, many were poor, living day to day. Every adult in the village was my  ¢â‚¬Å“uncle ¢â‚¬  or  ¢â‚¬Å“auntie ¢â‚¬ . We often found ourselves playing in different houses and I remember there was always a big kettle of sweet tea ready for us.

Even when I was five, I could see that we all looked different but such was the village that I thought we were all somehow related.

I remember one day I heard a commotion at the centre of the village and saw a crowd standing in a circle. As I approached, I saw an upturned cart with a man crying beside it. As I inched closer between the legs of all the uncles and aunties, I recognised that the man was the hawker that came round the village every evening selling porridge and sweet beans congee. He must have lost all his days ¢â‚¬â„¢ earnings and from the way he was kneeling and weeping, I could feel his loss.

There on the soft sea sand of the village was the upturned cart, all its contents spilled on the soft whiteness that caused the cart to overturn by catching one of its wheels. While a group was trying to turn the cart upright, there was murmuring, and as I looked up at the weather-beaten faces of the villagers, I saw compassion.

Next, I witnessed something that I remember vividly to this day: My Eurasian, Indian, Malay and Chinese uncles and aunties passed round a rusted tin and everyone dug into their pockets. They gave whatever they had in their pockets and passed it to the man.

Many years later I myself was a recipient of such kindness  ¢â‚¬“ kindness that transcends religion, race and language.

After a nice quiet afternoon out on the beach with my family, we packed our stuff into the boot of my run down old car to start our journey home. The next thing I knew, my car tyres got caught in the soft sand. There was only myself, my wife and our two little daughters, so we were unable to free the car.

A few minutes later, a group of Indian boys came round a sea wall with fishing rods in their hands. They made an instant detour towards us and soon we were all huffing and puffing trying to push the car free. In all the commotion, I noticed from the corner of my eye a lorry coming to a sudden stop along an adjacent tarred road. The Chinese driver hopped out quickly to the front of the lorry to inspect the engine, or so I thought. Later I found he was actually tying a tow rope to the lorry to try to pull my car out.

So there we were, all of us, pushing as hard as we could and the lorry pulling, but such was the soft sand that the rope snapped and we were unsuccessful. Just as we were about to give up, a very large number of people from a nearby village gathered at a distance and then began to proceed towards us. As they marched towards us, I recognised that same familiar multiracial Malaysian face, all together in purpose and kindness.

They told me to sit in the car and to get ready to drive the car out. I thought they were going to push the car but all of them, with Herculean strength, lifted the car and actually carried us to firmer ground. As soon as the car touched the ground, I quickly drove towards the tarred road.

When I came back, everybody had already left and I was left standing alone with no one to thank. As they walked back towards the village, I could hear them loudly congratulating each other over a job well done, there was plenty of humour and laughter too.

In their kindness and in their unity I witnessed blessings of strength and joy. Many more times in my life, I have witnessed and participated in similar scenes in the Malaysian landscape. As a citizen I have been tutored by our society in matters of kindness and grace, and as a parent I have passed these on to my children. As a person in authority, I have taken the responsibility to ensure that such values are entrenched in my subordinates.

We are all blessed to be Malaysians in that we have the opportunity to demonstrate unity and strength in our diversity. In almost three decades of constant travel around the world, I have come to appreciate my country more and more, and I am convinced that Malaysia is a special country, a beacon in a world of disunity.

Like the soft sea sand in my village, life can sometimes ensnarl us but only to give us opportunity to demonstrate the goodness that each and every one of us inherited from God. Let us, as Malaysians choose to claim that inheritance.

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