You are the champion,Dad!

It was a Sunday yes, but this was not an ordinary day.So my wife and I decided to take a ride to our usual breakfast coffee-shop at Sungai Nibong.We both ordered our Hokkien Mee topped up with the usual drinks we normally ordered.Then it was time to also 'ta pau' for our lunch and so we ordered two packages of nasi lemak.I expected older people to serve us but here were three young entrepreneurs,one taking the order while the others help to 'bungkus' the rice.The last one apparently a cashier,gave a broad smile while changing the Ringgits back to me.I smiled and gave a thump-up!

Then while at Jaya Restaurant,I managed to greet my good friend,Muthu, with "Vhanakham" and he replied the same with hands clasped inwards towards the heart.We normally made it a point to visit the said restaurant for our usual Tosai Masalla or just plain Chapati.He is only below 35 years but running his family restaurant.Visit this restaurant at Jalan Tengah,Bayan Baru for a hassle free Lunch or dinner.They provide good service.

During this time of great recession,more and more young men will be out on the road opening stores selling Nasi Lemak, Roti Chanai or Char Koay Teow or even Ramli's burger.If I am not mistaken,some of them are fathers too,trying very hard to bring food to the table for their family.Let us patronize their stores whether new or small and encourage them to stand on their two feet rather then to accept handouts from the authority!

Happy Father's day to all of you and I dedicate this poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow to you, our Champions:

" A PSALM OF LIFE (WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST)
TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait."