I enter the aircraft cabin. Yesterday's newspapers. Major headlines - all bodies found. I have no courage to pick up a copy.
News leak fast through Facebook and MSN. "I'm still abroad," I excused myself from heeding much. However, while looking at Van Gogh and his last painting, tears unexpectedly rolled down my eyes. Good lives lost. Good young lives.
"Don't read the papers. It's depressing." Daddy says. However, there's nothing much today. Much less than a few days back. Things will pass. The issue will ceade. The flag will fly at full mast again. But they will never return - an only son, a doctor-turned-teacher, bright students, future leaders.
My teacher wrote on Facebook:
星期天早晨，一面改学生的作文，一面笑骂，因为题目是“我是钟灵生”。 星期天中午，同事来电说龙舟队学生海上出事了......是吗？会吗？我震惊。 星期天的晚上，去了纬翔灵柩前，许多学生哭了，我的泪忍不住流了下来。 昨天走在中五的走廊，看到挂在旗杆中间的校旗，在风中无力的轻飘，很孤单..... 走进课室，学生哭得无法上课，心酸哪......
(Sunday morning. Marking student's essays, laughing, for the title was "I am a Chung Ling student". Sunday afternoon, my colleague called and said they've had an accident. I wouldn't believe. Sunday evening. I went to the funeral. Many students cried and I can't hold back my tears. I walk through the fifth form corridoor yesterday. The school flag was flying at half mast, alone in the windless morning. In class, students were in tears we can't teach. My heart aches.)
Many will not forget this dark chapter of school history, but as Chung Ling students we will continue to fight on. For excellence in education. For the pride of just being part of Chung Ling.
I pray for them rested souls.
Seeing Red Over “Green”
1 month ago