My thought and ramblings on my alma mater.
| It has been months since I left the bosom of my beloved alma mater, yet I still feel the warmth of her love. Love that is all honey-brown and gold, nurturing and comforting; leaving an aftertaste of sweetness lingering on. To an extent, absence does indeed make the heart grow fonder and I am able to state this on a personal account. Cherished memories are strengthened by an inter-network weaving of nostalgia, shielding them from the piercing tendrils of time. As of that, the ravages of time hold no effect on my memories and the erosion of the one link that binds me to her, my Franciscan identity, seems only superficial.
Although my time in St Francis Institution is no bed of roses, I miss it all the same. As time reveals, I discover that it is the little things that matter most. Subtle nuances of everyday school life are what I miss and the familiar feeling of closeness is what I yearn for. Teachers, classes, friends â€“ it is all synonymous with life in SFI, a life that I have put behind me but Iâ€™ll never forget. A life that just fits comfortably, warming me perfectly like snug, well-worn gloves.
I will remember it as it was always. Twin pillars greeting me with open arms, leading to the heart of the school, the quadrangle, where students are held in tight embrace. From the busy classrooms to the lively field, and from the spotless canteen to the serene chapel, it is unique in many ways. Similarly, I will remember each and every of my classrooms which I helped decorate during celebrations, the computer lab where I spent countless, afternoons and the library in which troves of books are stored.
So, what truly do I miss? Truthfully, I would have to say my teachers. Nothing beats the dedication and selflessness of these wonderful tutors, not mentioning their amiability in interacting with students. Many a times have I shared a pleasant conversation with my teachers, connecting with them as friends and not as distant beings, untouchable and aloof. Far from being lectures, advice given out is not patronizing in any way but instead handed out with good humor. I still and always will remember some of the words of my teachers: â€˜ilmu apabila dikongsi akan berkembangâ€™, â€˜look for similarities not differencesâ€™.
As I have mentioned, I also yearn for the feeling of closeness that I have felt when I was in SFI. Contrary to popular belief, small schools are a blessing in disguise. It is when you know each teacher by name and every student by sight do you then see the school as a second home and its members as family. Every nook has been duly explored and every cranny has been accurately identified.
As innocence in form one gave way to maturity in form five and as ignorance is displaced by wisdom, my feelings for the school evolved too. Indifference fled and as rebellion is quelled, love took opportunity to flourish. Blooming fiercely, it adapted and clung stubbornly to my heart. A true symbol of mutualism between a boy and his alma mater.