Sometimes I forgot that my daughter is only 8. When I scold her for the silly things she does, I'll realise afterwards that that was just the thing an 8 year olds do. At times, I seem to expect her to be more mature than her age.

This morning, she was late to school. She had an art class to attend, earlier than the normal school timing. My son wasn't cooperative so I told her to walk to school by herself, which wasn't done before. The walk to school takes about 15 minutes. It isn't far but it isn't near either. She was reluctant at first but because I persuaded and after some reminders about traffic lights and strangers, she was confident enough to give it a try.

Not 10 minutes after she left, I broke down and cry. Images of helpless small girls being abducted flashed through my mind. How could I leave her to walk to school by herself? She's only 8! I quickly put my son in his stroller and decided to run after her.

It was a dramatic scene. I ran as fast as I could while pushing the stroller. All the time I was crying. I saw her walking quite a distance, under the hot morning sun. I knew if I called out to her she wouldn't hear me. Looking at her small figure, I couldn't control my tears. I regretted sending her off by herself. I will never do that again, not for a few more years. I kept thinking what if I lose her. I can never ever imagine my life without her. I'd rather die than losing any of my children.

I lost sight of her when she neared the school. I waited for her call because I told her to call me once she's reached school. When she did 10 minutes later (it felt longer than that!), I was so relieved I told her over and over again how much I love her. She laughed as if I'm silly. Yeah, right.

Maybe I overreacted. Maybe I wasn't confident as her. But I only have myself to blame if anything happened to her. For now, I thank God for keeping her safe on her walk alone to school today.