There are angels

I am a soppy mess after reading how Madam Indranee Nadisen fostered 43 children over 32 years, giving them homes and love only a mother could give, with no expectation of reward or even acknowledgement of gratitude.

Her story touches a nerve because she reminds me of my late grandparents who took in my mother and several others, just because they loved children. The children were Chinese and of other indigenous origins but Mak and Bak didn't care.

Madam Indranee's son, Father Ambrose said, "There was no bigger piece of chicken for her own children".

Likewise, it was the same for Mak and Bak's own children. And they showered the same love on the children of the children they adopted - that would be me and all my 'cousins'.

For most of the first 11 years of my life, Mak and Bak took care of me while my parents worked. I was the favourite grandchild for a long time and the first granddaughter.

I was blessed to have been cared for by such angels - Haji Aboo Bakar Ahmad and Hajjah Khatijah Abdul Rahman.

I miss them. Especially during this fasting month. I know they would have loved playing with my daughter Sarah.