After spending some quiet moments in prayer, I walked back through the parish hall with my 5 month old to pick up the diaper bag and crock pot. By that point most people had left. The space that had been bustling with conversation at the event reception minutes before had shifted into clean-up.
"Would you like to take some flowers home?" she asked.
Such a seemingly small gesture on the outside.
When I arrived home my 10-year old immediately gave her opinion that they needed to go on my Bible table where I sit on the floor in front of to read the daily readings every morning. Seven months prior she had surprised me by arranging a couple of bouquets of flowers for my birthday in the same location.
It ended up being the perfect place and the perfect timing to receive some flowers. It was the start of a week that marked a shift in the rhythms and routines of my life - the Opening Session for another academic year, the pressure of quick approaching deadlines, still trying to figure out how to make different layers work, reflecting on deeper issues. It was a physically and emotionally draining time.
But at the end of the days, while rocking my baby I could glimpse the flowers. In the mornings when I woke up to pray, I could see the flowers. I remembered how I felt receiving them and gratitude pushed aside a mixture of other emotions.
I'm not sure that the person who gave the flowers gave it a second thought. And yet, on the receiving end over a month after, that act of kindness continues to bring peace and joy though the physical reminder has passed.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts.