I've always enjoyed listening to the stories of my friends. Through their words, their smiles, their ups and downs, I've lived vicariously, travelling through various cultures, countries and across generations, viewing life through the eyes of the handicapped, the wealthy, the ex-drug addict, the convent nun, the airline pilot, the diplomat, the restaurateur and even the magician.

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One of my favourite storybooks is 'The Giving Tree' by Shel Silverstein.

The themes of love and sacrifice are intrinsically intertwined in our lives and it helps to always reflect on where we are, where we've come from and where we are going.

This column is my 'journal' of sorts, to explore the intersection between the roots and wings of this life.

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I have met many friends along the way. But the ones that have made their deepest mark on my heart are the ones who were there for me when I needed them.

I remember my friend Wendy, who when I fell one day on the parade ground in RGS and scraped my knee badly, followed me to the restroom and helped me to wash my wounds. The wounds have since healed but the impression that her kindness left on me has endured till today.

I remember Simon and Pam from the National University of Singapore music ministry, who when I was searching for a purpose to my musical talent, taught me that music, was not just about myself. It was about communicating a love that was greater than myself. (I remember them too for letting me cry in their car when I had just broken up with my first boyfriend!)

I remember my group of guy friends from NUS who, when I was panicking and struggling to finish my honours thesis, came to my house at 3am in the morning to help me organise and print out my thesis so that I could meet the deadline. My mother still remembers them clambering up my staircase in the middle of the night!

I remember Ann, who despite her challenges of being a paraplegic in a wheelchair, endured a long bus ride to come hear one of my performances at a coffeehouse, in the middle of winter. I remember Yen and Steph, who came to visit me while I was recuperating from a cardiac ablation, armed with bottles of essence of chicken.

I remember Vivienne who was there when I was depressed about not getting the hang of breastfeeding and worrying about feeling inadequate as a mum because it felt like such an uphill battle to build up my milk supply. Even across the miles (I was in LA , she was in Singapore) She was there on the phone with her compassion, her advice and her encouragement and that made all the difference in my continuing to persevere and eventually nurse Claire exclusively with mother’s milk.

Our friends are windows into ourselves, they are the doors through which we can walk through the memories of our past, and they mark the milestones of our life’s journey.

Friendship also changes, like the seasons. Just like the unseen circles around planets that orbit and share elliptical paths that converge and then grow apart, so some of our friendships move along similar shapes of drawing near, then drawing apart, and coming back together after years.

Not too long ago, I had a reunion with my NCC (National Cadet Corps) mates. We had not seen each other in the 16 years since we graduated from secondary school and it was beautiful to see how each of us had changed and yet not changed from the giggly, awkward teenagers that we once were. We were still the same characters. We had just put on some layers: Careers, motherhood, marriage. So, for that one afternoon, for just a few hours, it seemed like we were back in school again, chatting about the cheers we used to shout in the school buses on the way to camp and singing old school songs at the top of our voices. It was a moment of bliss to relive those sweet memories. They reminded me of how I used to be, and how I have changed.

Our friends influence the kind of people we strive to be. They influence the type of things we do, and the values we hold dear.

Each of my friends has shaped me in different ways. I would not be the person I am today, without my friends.

What type of friend am I? What type of friend do I hope to be?

In seeking to answer this question, I look to a group of friends that I have recently come to know. This ‘Kampong’ group of friends consisting of about 10 families, meets every week to have a potluck dinner, and all the kids play with each other while the adults chatter. They vacation every year together. They take turns sending each other’s kids to school, they pray for each other, are there to support each other in times of trouble and to rejoice with each other in times of joy. I have learnt so much from them about friendship and about the type of friend I hope to be.

I want to be a friend who gives and doesn't expect a reciprocal giving. I want to be a friend who loves what seems unlovable, and accepts without judging. I want to be a friend who is brave enough to speak out in love, without fear of losing that friendship, when my friend is heading down the wrong direction in life.

I want to be a friend who is there for my friend, not just in the good times, but more importantly in the bad times. I want to be a friend who will champion my friend's dreams and encourage him to fly.

It has been said that there is no greater love, than for a man to lay his life down for a friend.

St. Maximillan Kolbe, a Polish Friar took this to heart, when he volunteered to take the place of a fellow prisoner who had been condemned to die by starvation in the Nazi concentration camp of Auschwitz.

I am far from ever doing that, but I hope, in little steps to water that tree of friendship every day in the hopes that it will flower and grow.

Perhaps singer-songwriter Carole King put it best when she wrote the following lyrics in her song “You’ve Got A Friend”:

You just call out my name

And you know wherever I am

I’ll come running to see you again

Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall

All you have to do is call

And I’ll be there, yes I will

You’ve got a friend

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