Memoirs of an Ice-Cream Lady (Part 39)
By Emily Ho
Editor’s Note: The author runs an ice-cream parlor on Hong Kong’s Lamma Island. When time allows, she draws caricatures and writes. The following are semi-autobiographical anecdotes blending fact and fiction.
It’s a Blessing to Give
“Well done!” A Lamma resident congratulated Emily on raising money for victims of the 2004 tsunami.
“I’m just doing what everyone should do to help,” Emily replied humbly. “Really, it’s a small contribution.”
“I saw your posters along the hillside. You’re probably the first person in the whole community reaching out to help.”
“It doesn’t matter who starts it – just that the donations go to the people who are suffering,” Emily said, recalling a magazine photo that showed a Sri Lankan father crying his heart out in front of his son’s body. She couldn’t forget that haunting image. The painful expression on the father’s face nearly made Emily cry.
As Emily headed to the pier later that day, she noticed that all her posters had disappeared from the “wall” on the hillside.
“I stuck them up there yesterday with plenty of adhesive tape,” Emily mused. “No rain fell last night to wash them away, and it’s strange that other posters are still there.”
Emily wondered if someone had torn down her posters, but then abandoned the idea as too ridiculous. “Nobody would do that to a charitable cause,” she decided.
Anyone who did would be even meaner than a memorable woman Emily had met at Lamma Fun Day a few years earlier.
Maybe Emily was right about the posters. Yes, maybe.
Lamma Fun Day
Before Emily started the ice-cream shop she had more free time for local activities. She enjoyed a weekly writers’ forum at a vegetarian café. There, she came to know Andrew, the forum organizer. Although the forum ended due to low turnouts, she stayed in touch with Andrew.
One day Emily received a call from Andrew asking her to help with enquires from the Chinese community about a new Lamma Fun Day to raise money for orphans in Nepal. Emily happily agreed for the sake of charity. She gave the event a Chinese name that it still uses, a fact of which she remains proud.
On the first Lamma Fun Day, Emily helped to raise money by drawing people’s caricatures for HK$20 each. As a self-taught amateur artist, she’d never taken classes or drawn professionally, not even for charity.
As the Fun Day proceeded, local residents and visitors sang and danced to reggae music from live bands. On the beach, children competed in games conducted by a “town-crier” as played by Andrew. At temporary stalls, people sold drinks, snacks, second-hand books, clothes and even foot massages, all on a paved road near the Power Station Beach, so named because it’s beside a large power plant.
Some stall-holders, like Emily, donated all income to the charity. Others paid a fee for the stall rental and earned a day’s income. Everyone was having a great time.
Emily enjoyed herself too. Most customers appreciated her drawings and each donated HK$20 into a box in front of the caricatures stall.
Then a Chinese lady in her mid-30s brought her four-year-old daughter to Emily’s stall and requested a caricature of the girl. Both neatly dressed, they looked better-off than most villagers.
“Please smile, sweetie.” Emily told the child, who gladly complied for the drawing.
When Emily finished, the mother stepped forward to look at the caricature. Then she pointed a finger at Emily’s drawing and said something that startled everyone nearby.
“Do you call this a caricature? It doesn’t look like my daughter at all! And that costs me 20 bucks?”
The girl dropped her smile. She looked very upset at her mother’s reaction.
“I beg your pardon, madam,” Emily said, her voice shaking. “I’m just a volunteer here, an amateur artist. The money you donate goes to a charity for unfortunate children. I’m sorry you’re not satisfied. If you insist, maybe I can ask the organizer to open the donation box and refund the 20 bucks.”
In reality, Emily knew there was no way she’d give back the money, nor did she feel sorry.
“Forget it. Let’s go, daughter.” Maybe realizing Emily’s real meaning, the lady grabbed her daughter’s hand. As they walked away, she kept staring at Emily as if having been “cheated”.
After they’d gone, Emily shook her head and sighed deeply. She didn’t mind criticism of her drawing, but felt really sorry for the little girl because her mother had set a bad example.
Maybe in the mother’s mind, everything came as a bargain, including charity. She neglected to teach her child the true meanings of giving and courtesy.
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