There's a story in this picture. One of innocence I suppose. Surprisingly though, this picture also reminded me of something else. Something about my childhood.

Boystown is a residential care facility for the underpriviledged male children from 8 to 18 years of age. Honestly speaking, these are the children nobody, not even their parents bothered to care for.

It is this facility which is my next pit stop towards finding meaning and touch.

His name is Jason - the boy in the picture. And his story was just like any of them. There is sadness in him. Loss. And yet for someone so young, there is also happiness and joy. He showed me his matchbox, excited, telling me that he had a small spider who died after losing a game. Then just like that, I remembered what it was. What it felt like. Yes, losing my first spider. You see, I used to play that game.

A long long time ago.

So there it was. Jason and my first spider reminding of something I almost forgot.
I have come so far from playing with spiders. I have lost a lot of battles and won a few. But just like Jason and his spider, I've learned to cope with losing.

Time will come when I will no longer remember Jason or this facility. He will be just another patient whom I will treat, and I will be just another doctor who will treat him. So before I forget, I want to dedicate this prose for him. I want to thank him for reminding me what it was during friendlier times.

I want to thank him for making me believe that a young boy who once played with spiders can actually become so much more.