A Memory

I suddenly miss having to work in the dental bus. The indolent days, knowing the best places around to eat, coming late and leaving early.

There was a girl, 13 years old. She was called Yiting. She was too dark, had single eyelids, a very pronounced forehead, and the bimaxillary protrusion common in most Chinese that made their mouths perpetually puckered. She could have been called ugly.

There are some people who invoke a response in you despite all professional and mental objectivity. I felt an overwhelming sympathy towards her, singled out from amongst the hundreds of students. She never looked directly at me, hardly uttered a word, only smiled through her small eyes. She was always calm.

She required several fillings lasting 3 visits, and not once did she complain or whimper in pain from the needle and drill. She accepted everything I said. When she was waiting for her turn she sat quietly on the tiny bench in the room, resting her huge pink bag on her knees.

I gave her my best care, all the toothbrushes I could find, yet at the end I felt a strange and terrible sadness. This was how she would be, all her life, never complaining, quiet, always watchfully there. She said goodbye and left, and I strained from the window to see where she went.

She meandered towards the canteen, and noting that her friends were not there, turned towards the gates. I hope that she will be truly happy, and that one day I will see her again. I must never forget that its as simple as that.