Esther invited me to stay over on Saturday night and cooked a meal for me. We ate, we talked, she washed all the dishes, and made the bed for me…I dunno, the way she treated me made me feel so cared for and so welcome. She also gave me make-up and earrings and stuff she was clearing in preparation to move out.
I realized she is someone who knows how to enjoy her life and enjoy serving others. She’s so beautiful. Her room…the little notes she leaves for friends…her smile…everything is full of her flavour.
I can’t remember the last time a friend (by friend I mean a peer lah…) showed me a simple act of kindness out of genuine care like that.
Either I have a terrible memory of good things, or, I’m sensitive enough to see the different motives, or, I’ve been too busy, or, I have a sign on my face that says Private Person, Keep Off…?
Hmm. She said I’m a private person. Maybe I am-which I think is so paradoxical since I can be really open and direct. But yes, there are so many layers to me and some things are just too precious or too deep…I don’t even know how to put certain floating thoughts into words.
But you know, sometimes, knowing that someone made the extra effort to care for me is very, very important for me to carry on living…happily, for lack of a better word. It helps me remember the extravagance of God’s love because I forget. I forget how it feels like to be loved.