Doing Dhana

Chinese New Year rolls on... feasting, over-indulgences, mahjong, drinking, lots of fun. But enough about that.

Last Thursday, we did our annual dhana, a Buddhist act of giving. Our family always dhanas at Chinese New Year, to share the joy and abundance of the festival. Having performed it an orphanage and for the construction workers who built our condo in previous years, my parents decided to help out at the Metta School (www.mettaschool.edu.sg) this year.

The Metta School is a charity-funded school for mentally disabled and autistic children. Run by the Metta Buddhist Foundation, it accepts students of all ethnic and religious backgrounds, which is the beauty of it all. Mr. Yong, the principal, is Christian and Mr. Anuwar, the vice-principal, is Muslim. Mr. Anuwar is a guy in love with his job, which in this era of all you need isn't love, says a lot about compassion and dedication. He knows the names of every student skipping by him, knows their medical conditions and family backgrounds, indulges in showing off all of the school's new facilities. These kids, he says, aren't like other kids because they have an IQ of between 50 to 70. But they have something other kids may not -- a lot of heart.

We donated two buffet spreads, Thai and Indonesian cuisine. There were 371 students to feed, the older kids aged 13 to 18 in the morning session, the younger kids aged 7 through 12 in the afternoon. An unusual treat brings out something you don't often see, love and selflessness in their purest and most unadulterated forms. Standing in line with plastic plates in hand, as we piled on curry and satay and fried rice and mee siam and chicken wings, the kids made sure their friends and classmates who hadn't made it to the canteen yet would also receive a platter of plenty before scampering off to tuck in. With 80 to 90 percent of the school coming from families with a monthly income of S$1,000 (US$600) or less, this was a rare -- or new -- treat. The kids wanted more satay, more chicken wings and more fried wontons (no second helping of veggies, please; even kids with special needs are kids, after all) and they got more -- there's no room for Mr. Bumble in dhana. And when they were done and we were facing mountains of leftovers, we packed it all up for them to take home. But they weren't taking it home for a second wind feast -- they picked and chose what they knew their moms and dads and brothers and sisters liked. And because there's never enough reason to grin and beam and laugh, we gave out bags of lu dan (braised eggs). Chinese New Year is always a joyful occasion in my family, even electrifyingly fun, but this is possibly the happiest time of the holiday for my parents.

We tell the whole world that Singapore is a food paradise and that eating is our national past-time, but that's not always the case for everyone. That day, we tried our best to live up to our country's good name, but more importantly, I hope we were able to help some little kids realise they were just like everyone else, deserving and special.