This past week (and two) I have felt - I have been - so exquisitely blessed.
So many blessings. So little, so big, sometimes hidden, so rich, and so full.
Driving through the traffic of Chiang Mai with a car working as something like a mechanized rocking horse in jerky motion. A gullawa took me under his wing and found me an excellent mechanic shop that I could never have found on me own, where they not only did good, quick work at changing the fuel filter, but also put a lot of effort into giving me back the dim lights that I've been so desperately missing for the past month. Nobody else seemed to think they were very necessary. But then they weren't the one's getting flashed at by every on-coming vehicle either!
An exceedingly long morning in the hospital with our very sick and fuzzy two-year-old clinging desperately to me in one arm (and squalling with all his might if I so much as tried to make him sit beside me) and my extremely active 10-month-old in the sling in the other. [Take a lesson from the unwise and don't try this one at home!] After Jabe covered everything in vomit (despite the fact that he wasn't the one there because he was sick) a sweet young mother came up and gave me her baby's extra shirt, later refusing to take anything for it. A little later another thoughtful patient, who was before me in line and next in to see the doctor, insisted on giving her place to me and wouldn't take no for an answer. Interwoven through all of this, more in-depth conversations with new friends. . . And best of all, none of it was due to my gullawa status, but rather out of genuine empathy. That means a lot here. It's not always easy to always be the gullawa. There are times when you crave to simply be accepted as a friend.
Blessings everywhere.
In people who care enough to do something about it. Sweet friendship. In opportunities to serve, to give.
* My memory quandary is currently taken care of, thanks to informative friends. :)
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