a little box from way down under

It was hot and humid and I had survived a rough morning. The mood was definitely not the best. Things were not getting better as no one was answering the door bell. Someone finally did. But before I could vent my annoyance my eyes fell on a packet lying in on the table near the entrance door. I picked up and tried to look for the addressee as the rains had done their job of smudging the writing. It was indeed for me and came from way down under from a lovely person who I so loved. She and her darling man had come twice as volunteers and spread love and joy across pwhy an had somehow crept  into my heart in a place that lay empty till then. The more than half a century was well worth the waiting.Each time they came, they had bags full of surprises for the children and I somehow thought that they were sending something for the pwhy kids. But I was in for huge surprise: this time the kid was me.

The last months have not been the best for me personally. The pain of a loved one is by far the worst ache in your heart, and not being able to heal it is agony. Trying to keep a brave and happy face in the wake of all odds is undoubtedly a piece of acting worthy of an Oscar! Anyway I went to the kitchen to get a knife to cut the parcel open and imagine my surprise when I realised that it was for me! Well not quite me, as there were things for others in the family, but I would like to believe it was just for me. The box had a book for me, one I had been longing to read, and one for my golf mad partner. There were other things: a soft toy, a key chain, and trick moustaches as well as two beautiful cards and lots of little stars. One card was from people one had never seen but felt one had always known.


That was the visible elements, but that was in no way what that box contained. Like the Little Prince you had to look with your heart and out came truck loads of love, joy and happiness; countless prayers that could in no way go unheard and the feeling that the miracle I have been seeking would materialise. It was just a matter of time.

I was moved, speechless, transfixed. Then from I do not know where the smile I had lost for so many months reappeared and joy filled my heart.

It is always the unspoken words, the unseen things and the invisible articles that say more than any perceptible ones. Long after the box was emptied of its contents, it is still radiating joy all over the house.

I have another confession to make. From the time people who love me know I am going through a rough phase, another loving soul has been sending me boxes of chocolates that I greedily eat alone, to ashamed to let the world know my peche mignon. Each mouthful is again another burst of joy!

That my two guardian Angels share the same name cannot be mere serendipity.