Donna
fanned herself with one hand and dabbed at her face with a piece of tissue
paper that seemed to be holding more moisture than it was supposed to hold. She
opened her bag and rummaged for her tissue packet which she found empty. Sighing,
she started fanning herself again. The sun was offending her with its
sweltering heat and her sweat glands were trying their best to compensate for
it. And she? She was sitting beside her not-so-interested teammate on a plastic
stool that had seen better days. Pamphlets that they had distributed from 8
o’clock in the morning had been unceremoniously strewn all around them, most
before their very eyes, some discretely into the dustbin around the corner of
the building about twenty metres away. They had put up their booth in front of
a row of shops, hoping that they could send their message across to many
people. They had sent their message alright, but they were highly in doubt of
whether or not the people had received them.
Donna
looked at the form on the foldable plastic table. Of all the one hundred spaces
they had aimed to fill, only three were occupied with names. Saddened, and not
understanding why people had failed to come to such an important realization
about life, Donna picked up a pamphlet again to continue fanning herself. As
she did so, she observed a tall, rather good looking man coming from the
opposite direction. Everything he wore, from his sunglasses to his olive green
shirt, to his shoes bore price tags Donna knew she couldn’t even dream of. She
could vaguely make out what he was saying into the phone.
“Come
on darling, you know how it is. I promise to bring you tomorrow instead. Don’t
you trust me?”
His
facial expression gave Donna every reason not to trust him. She quickly walked
up to him with a pamphlet and extended her arm to him. To Donna’s disgust the
man didn’t even give her a glance as he waved her away. As a last resort she
opted to beggary and was again slapped with disappointed. He had merely stepped
out of her way. She didn’t mind the people who put up their hands apologetically,
but this, always left her fuming. She went back to her chair and sat down so
hard that she was very sure she heard something crack.
Donna
was a nurse. She was a plump girl with a round face which was a flustered
crimson now, and she was hardly above five feet. She had graduated from
university a few months ago, and she had been very excited about work. Little
did she realize that many other things came with her job, and it wasn’t just
wiping bottoms and cleaning food off her apron. Frankly speaking, all that was
dim in comparison with what she was going through now. She was horrified at the
attitude of people, their lack of interest, and their selfishness. Then they were those who really wanted to
make a difference but were afraid to do so. She herself had been one of them.
It had taken her a really long time to come in terms with it.
She
picked up a pamphlet and flipped through it. Sometimes, she still wasn’t sure
what had made her do it. She had asked herself many times if it would matter
when the time came. She would have no idea that it was happening, her friends
and family might finally have a reason to feel proud of her, and most
importantly, she would give people a reason to live. She had toiled this over
and over in her mind until she was very sure that the only thing that could
come out of it was nothing but goodness. But why didn’t people understand that?
It couldn’t be because they really didn’t care. She had more faith in people
around her. Maybe they didn’t know to what extent the change would be. Maybe they
took what they had to give for granted. Maybe they had to understand what kind
of difference it could actually make. But who was she to make that difference?
Throughout her schooling days, the number of friends she had could be counted
using her ten pudgy fingers. She hardly met her cousins, she hardly spoke to
her three older siblings, and her parents might have even forgotten the fact
that they had a fourth child who had just finished nursing school and was
fighting against the world to save lives.
She
didn’t know either. She didn’t know what kind of a difference it would make
either. But she had done it. For the greater good. When she had asked her
parents opinion they had merely ‘mm-ed’ her, as though her actions had no
significance, no purpose, totally useless. When she had asked her friends, she
had been accused of insanity.
“You
crazy ah?”
“What’s
wrong with you?”
“Don’t
la! Later you don’t know what they will do to you also!”
Donna
had angrily retorted all of them. “They will do what they have to do. And that
depends on what I do now!”
Her
friends watched sadly as their mad friend walked out of the door. After an
intense discussion they decided that her lack of attention at home had gotten
the better of her. Donna had turned out perfectly fine for a child deprived of
time, love and attention. She was independent, and she was always trying to
make a difference for the better. Even if not for the whole world, at least for
people around her. She never put herself before another person who needed her
more than herself. She looked at her watch. This quality had further assured
her that she had done the right thing, and she wanted to encourage people to do
the right thing too. It was six o’clock, an hour well past the time she was
expected to be at her booth. Asha, her petite partner on the job looked up at
her hopefully, her eyes clearly pleading for Donna to call it a day.
Donna
sighed and started packing her things. She stacked the pamphlets neatly and
held them in one arm while she picked her bag up in the other. She crossed the road
and turned back wondering what was taking the other girl so long. Asha was
waving to her. Donna looked at her first confused then her eyes glinted with
hope and excitement as she noticed the lanky boy standing next to Asha. She struggled
to balance the pamphlets in one hand and hugged her bag closer to her. Crossing
the road was the last thing she remembered.
In a
few moments, a large group had formed around Donna. Many members of the crowd
were those who had passed Donna earlier in the day. An elderly man wearing a
pair of spectacles stepped forward and squatted next to Donna’s body. He placed
two fingers on her neck. He then looked up at Asha who’s face had been drained
of color.
“Is she
an organ donor?”
Some of us may already
be organ donors, some of us may not, that too for many reasons. I have friends
who roll their eyes when I speak of organ donation, I have friends who say “Die
already somemore what? Donate la! Don’t care.” Then I have friends who say “Yeah,
I think I donated a couple of stuff. But I doubt they’ll be usable la. You know
the amount I drink and stuff”. I also have friends to whom this topic is taboo.
If selfishness and lack of interest are your reasons, I plead you to think
again. If there are more complicated reasons, and you’re still eligible with
healthy organs, talk it out with someone who can help you make a decision. Out of
many, many donated hearts, probably only one will match a dying young boy. The
next day is always just another day for most of us, but it may be another life
for someone else.
