Thanks so much for reading, Piroska. By sheer coincidence, he visited again just two days ago, completely out of the blue, took coffee and we shared a little more of our lives. x
don’t quite know what to say… i appreciate your writing about the quiet and seemingly randomness of this man’s kindness. it is these little things of thoughtfulness of people around us who might most days seem like strangers. though it is these acts of unshowy solidarity and simple gestures of non-transactional help that connect us deeply with our fellow humans. the intimacy between you two over your coffee in the kitchen is the glue that holds our entroping world together. we need to be around for this, giving it, possibly in every moment that lends itself to these interactions, but also being here for to receive. to be open for it. that is as important as the giving. if we aren’t able to welcome the kindness in this world then all is truly lost.
you gave that lovely man your ear to share his witnessing and to express his love for the people he sees daily. as a plumber he might not have the chance to do that very often. to see him in his struggles to not go numb and listen to his stories is a gift of kindness in itself.
Thank you, Sue. He’s such a lovely dear man. He comes to fix and improve things I don’t understand, but he’s always had such a caring and emotional side to him too, which is something I do know about.
Tender and touching expression of loss and commiseration.
Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts, much appreciated.
Beautiful words, as always, Matt. It’s these moments that remind us how much we all can carry and how much we need each other.
Thank you, Mark. I think you are right.
another comforting story that ends with a teardrop sliding down my cheek. :o)
Thanks so much for reading, Piroska. By sheer coincidence, he visited again just two days ago, completely out of the blue, took coffee and we shared a little more of our lives. x
don’t quite know what to say… i appreciate your writing about the quiet and seemingly randomness of this man’s kindness. it is these little things of thoughtfulness of people around us who might most days seem like strangers. though it is these acts of unshowy solidarity and simple gestures of non-transactional help that connect us deeply with our fellow humans. the intimacy between you two over your coffee in the kitchen is the glue that holds our entroping world together. we need to be around for this, giving it, possibly in every moment that lends itself to these interactions, but also being here for to receive. to be open for it. that is as important as the giving. if we aren’t able to welcome the kindness in this world then all is truly lost.
you gave that lovely man your ear to share his witnessing and to express his love for the people he sees daily. as a plumber he might not have the chance to do that very often. to see him in his struggles to not go numb and listen to his stories is a gift of kindness in itself.
Thank you, Ivy. I agree with pretty much everything you express. x
Deeply affecting, but also curiously comforting. The balm of a shared coffee
Thank you, Sue. He’s such a lovely dear man. He comes to fix and improve things I don’t understand, but he’s always had such a caring and emotional side to him too, which is something I do know about.
That's beautiful
Thank you, Diane.
moved me to tears x
Thank you, Christine. It’s lovely to find your words here so often; they’re much appreciated. x
❤️
Thank you, Jo. x