Name: Tan Yi Lin (16 years old)

Class: 4S3
School: Catholic High School
Date: September 2006-09-20

My Ideal School

It was another school day again. I took a glimpse at my alarm clock beside my bed

with heavy eyelids, hoping that the time had not come for me to wake up. I almost fell

back to dreamland, when mother suddenly stormed in and shook me violently.

“Get up, sleepy head!” She turned on the light, which forced me to open my eyes.

Feeling very uncomfortable by the sudden brightness, I reluctantly sat up and rubbed my

eyes.

“You will go to school this morning, Josh,” said mother firmly. “I do not care

whether you like it or not. I do not want to hear any more complaints from you.”

Taking the school bus, I arrived at my school ten minutes later. There, was my

school, with a tall coconut tree next to the front gate. The sight of the usual wooden

classrooms and small compound did not make me feel welcomed. The sixty-year-old

school was not very big, with only twelve classrooms, a tiny grass field, and a library

with three shelves of books, four science labs, and one open hall which could fit four

hundred students. Out of the fifteen teachers in my school, only two could speak fluent

English, but none of them were my teachers.

Staring at the compound around the school which I had been attending for two

years, I sighed. As the top student of the school, I felt I deserved better facilities than

these. I remembered watching a documentary on television about a school in the city

which was many times bigger than mine. It had a large football field and every class in
that school had an air-conditioner. The floors were beautifully done with shiny tiles and

the walls painted with colours so rich that it looked luxurious. I pictured myself walking

in the middle of that school compound, visiting every corner of it. I imagined going to the

huge canteen and trying out every kind of food they sold; sitting in the middle of the hall

and feeling so small; going up the elevator instead of clambering endless staircases;

visiting a book paradise in the library...

My fantasy world faded away suddenly when I was awakened by Puan Haslinda,

the history teacher. She brought me shocking news that my father had met with an

accident and was admitted into the hospital. My jaw dropped as I heard the tragic news

and without wasting any more time I rushed to the hospital.

Things changed drastically after my father’s accident. It was a good thing he left the

danger zone, but he had to stay in bed for quite a while. I stopped attending the school I

disliked so much and started to help the family financially by working as a waiter in Pak

Samad’s restaurant, as well as helping my mother sell home-made cakes. Life was

tougher, as we were always busy, especially when my five-year-old sister Julia needed

mother’s attention.

Just when we were in this kind of situation, help came. My classmates had not been

idle during my absence in school. All the while they had been passing words about my

situation around the school. By now even the principle was aware of my difficulties.

Many came to visit and offered help, especially the teachers. Concerned and caring, they

brought various gifts of fruits, cakes, and even their own cooking. Some generous ones

even offered help to baby-sit Julia.

 Encik Mahmud, the principle also came to visit us. He was such a friendly fellow.

He decided that he would help us to raise fund so that I could return to school. At that

moment I thought I saw a different person in him. Before his visit I had always thought of

him as a serious and strict school principle, but never before had I imagined him cracking

a joke to cheer us up.

All the help from the principle, the teachers and my classmates made me feel warm

inside. Even if they did not help, I would feel thankful for their visit. They treated my

family and me as though we were their relatives. Such selfless and initiative attitude

touched me deeply, and I thought of the place where they all came from － school. All of

a sudden I was overcome by a feeling that I should go back there.

When things went back to normal, I did go back to school, this time with a totally

new attitude. Now I feel proud of my school, and I definitely feel proud to attend this

school. What’s so bad about my school? It is old and small, but it is cleaner than most

schools; its library has only three shelves of books, but at least there is a library for the

students to use; its teachers hardly spoke English, but they are the best teachers I had ever

known. It just does not take good academic results, co-curricular achievements, or

beautiful buildings to make a school good, but it is the people in the school that makes

my school such a special place.

“What is your ideal school?” someone asked me.

I did not answer, but pointed to a small building in a distance where a tall coconut

tree grew next to its front gate.

Word count: 895