Pots of Wisdom

Returning to find the boiling soup spilling over, I said to my niece, "And you were in the kitchen." I proceeded to fix the situation, but then it hit me that the girl may not have even realised before that she could have handled it. And it reminded me of when I was in a similar situation as a child and rather fought back. It was years later that I could fully comprehend.

Granny sent me to cook some rice. Her specific instruction was to rinse the rice and then pour it into a pot of water. I did just that and returned outside to continue playing. Much later, our landlady—who only visited to spend time with Granny, her friend apparently—called me. The next thing she said was, "How could you allow the rice to burn? Grandma said you're the one she sent."

"Huh?" I reacted. "But Grandma only asked me to put it on fire, not to watch over it. I thought she'd do that." What would follow was a pep talk on how I was meant to be responsible over it regardless if Granny would watch over it or not. But it just didn't make any sense to me. My small head couldn't understand what she was trying to teach me. Honestly, she was actually overly stern about the matter as she was yelling, so I guess I was rather feeling attacked and only thought of defending myself.

That's pretty much what happens when people feel criticized or condemned. The natural first response is to get defensive. Takes emotional maturity to take criticism well, as well as to tactfully give it.

Although I would continue to do as she said, I really didn't get the memo then. What the woman was trying to teach me was about being responsible, which I learnt anyway but only made sense to me many years later, after she had passed away and I remembered.

"Anyway, I was the one that forgot to add a little oil to prevent the foaming from rising too high. In any case, next time you're present in such a situation, at least turn down the heat. That's part of being responsible." I imagined my niece may not have understood without a good explanation, so I first took responsibility for my own mistake and then explained what I meant.

Last last, the soup turned out nice, and everyone feasted. Perhaps my niece learnt something that day—that Uncle Jay can cook fire!