Back in primary school, we had weekly Moral Science classes — lessons on values taught through simple stories. I was in Grade 2 or 3 when one particular lesson caught my imagination. It said: Begin your day with a thank you to God, and then greet your family members warmly.

Every morning I began with a quick, quiet chat with God. Then, on Sunday, I took the experiment further at home.

Mummy was busy in the kitchen when I walked in and greeted her sweetly, just like the boy in the Moral Science book. She looked at me in surprise, touched my forehead, and laughed, “Are you running a fever?”

Not discouraged, I turned to my sister. “Good morning!” I said cheerfully. She narrowed her eyes, then shouted to Mummy: “Check what she’s up to — she must have done something wrong!”

By now, my enthusiasm was fading. Finally, I tried Papa. He put down his newspaper, listened to my greeting, and smiled warmly. “That’s nice. Is this your idea, or something from school?” he asked. I explained about the Moral Science lesson — but admitted it was probably the first and last time I’d follow it.

Papa smiled again. Then he gave me a piece of advice that changed how I thought about “good deeds”. “Do the right thing for the right reason. Don’t expect applause. The joy should come from your action itself, not from someone else’s reaction.”

That lesson has stayed with me far longer than any textbook.