Colours of Kindness
Zhi Ling stood in the bustling streets of Bugis, weaving through the late-afternoon crowd as she made her way toward the boutique. It had been a long week. Work, deadlines, and responsibilities piling higher than she liked to admit. But today she wasn’t here for herself. She was here for her aunt, Aunt Mei Lin, the person who raised her when her parents travelled frequently for work.
Inside the shop, the florist lifted a pastel bouquet wrapped in white paper and tied with soft pink ribbon. Hydrangeas, gerberas, lilac roses and each bloom arranged with intention, creating a gentle gradient of colour. It was exactly what Zhi Ling wanted: something soft, warm, and full of emotion.
“This one is one of our bestsellers for thank-you gifts,” the florist said with a smile.
Zhi Ling nodded. “It’s perfect. My aunt really deserves something beautiful.”
She glanced at the little sticker on the wrapping: White On White, one of the best florists in Singapore, known for beautifully curated arrangements and reliable same-day delivery. She had ordered from many florists before, but somehow White On White always captured emotions in flowers better than anyone else.
As she held the bouquet, memories slowly unravelled. Aunt Mei Lin was the one who taught her how to braid her hair, the one who packed extra snacks into her schoolbag, the one who checked her fever in the middle of the night. In adulthood, she was still the one who cooked her comfort food whenever she felt burnt out from work, the one who reminded her gently to rest, the one who stayed on the phone with her during lonely nights.
Love didn’t always come from parents, sometimes it came from an aunt who held your childhood together. Zhi Ling walked toward the MRT, hugging the bouquet close, careful not to crush the petals. She thought about how often she said “thank you” casually, as if the words carried no weight. But this time, she wanted something more sincere, something that showed how deeply she appreciated everything Aunt Mei Lin had done.
When she reached her aunt’s flat in Tampines, she took a deep breath and knocked.
The door openedand Aunt Mei Lin looked surprised. “Zhi Ling? What brings you here?”
Zhi Ling held out the bouquet. “For you,” she said softly. “For all the years you cared for me. For always showing up. For loving me like your own.” Her aunt’s eyes softened, filling with warmth. “You didn’t need to buy anything… your presence is enough.”
“I know,” Zhi Ling replied. “But you deserve something beautiful too.” Aunt Mei Lin placed the bouquet carefully into a vase, admiring the pastel colours. The room felt instantly brighter, softer, filled with the unspoken emotions Zhi Ling never managed to say out loud.
