Who is the strongest of them all? (Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com)
Who is the strongest of them all?
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the strongest of them all? A figure so tiny, so frail, but she's a matriarch behind a veil.
Besides a man so strong and tall, is a woman who takes over when he falls. When the family is cracking and breaking, that maternal glue is in the making.
See the dame running the family millstone? The comforting bosom that belies a financial backbone? So, mirror, mirror on the wall who indeed, is the strongest of them all?
Pantun Kanser Payudara (A poem on cancer breast – revised)
‘A Woman First‘ is pleased to welcome a guest writer. He is Dato’ Dr. Ziaudin Ahamed Bin Abdul Kareem, an advocate for Quality of Life. ‘Pantun Kanser Payudara’ means a poetry about breast cancer.
‘A Woman First‘ dengan berbesar hati menyambut penulis undangan. Beliau ialah Dato ’Dr. Ziaudin Ahamed Bin Abdul Kareem, seorang Pengamal Perubatan Paliatif.
Pantun Kanser Payudara
Read by: Zurainawaty A Rahman, PNC, Gp 2/92
“女人优先”很高兴欢迎特邀作家。他是拿督的Ziaudin Ahamed Bin Abdul Kareem博士，生活质量的倡导者。 “ Pantun Kanser Payudara”是一首关于乳腺癌的诗。
The above poem can be summarised as /Puisi di atas dapat diringkaskan sebagai:/以上诗可概括为
Tourists fly thousands of kilometers to see exotic places. The pristine corners of Port Dickson are ignored. We have them all to ourselves. We are not complaining, but feel it’s ironic. – Co-author Toh HL
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Travelling does not have to be expensive if one cares to appreciate the treasures around and near us!
Soak one’s self in the serenity of nature’s beauty, sounds of rhythmic rolling of waves, and the distant cries of birds in the forest! – Chen S.P. @ TPTan
Dive! (Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com)
This story on Facebook reminds me of two other teenagers who dived and broke their necks.
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The first one was a handsome well-built six- footer on admission. Some unscrupulous persons dumped some solid rubbish and rocks into the water… a spot where he used to dive at a harbour. With complete loss and wasting of his four limbs, he often vented his frustrations and yelled at his mother in the ward. She used to cry outside along the ward corridor. A former colleague visited him at a home some thirty years later. He sold his mouth- paintings and even bought wheelchairs for fellow paraplegics who couldn’t afford them.
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I met the second teenager at Piazza della Indipendenza in Florence. He was on a motorized wheelchair which he could handle with the minimal use of fingers on the buttons. He had spastic quadriplegia. His muscles remained firm and not wasted. His mother and brother were with him. At my request, he demonstrated how he moved around the garden on his ‘machine’. It was about the cost of a car in my country, then.
There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next […]
Chen Song Ping 