The incident, which reminded me of the well known saying “it's more blessed to give than to receive” happened a few weeks before my sister's wedding. With a heavy heart, I left the wedding cheer at home for another town to attend some important lectures. My parents had the room ready and waiting for me and as I entered, I walked into what seemed like a Christmas floral shop. Red poinsettias and other bouquets crowded the windowsill, along with a stack of cards that waited to be opened. I felt overwhelmed by the love and attention.
Just then, a voice broke into my reverie. “Hey, I'll be sharing the room with you,” said the 20-something girl who had stepped into the room. She had short, curly grey hair and brown eyes. She stared at the flowers with child-like wonder. She introduced herself as Dollie and we chatted on till it was time for dinner. Not once did she mention her family and neither did I ask. Being in her company, life suddenly seemed easier and she also continued to exclaim excitedly at the cards and flowers I continued to receive.
On our last evening together, Dollie decided to visit the market. As I walked through the room alone, I noticed for the first time the stark contrast between our sides of the room. There was Dollie's bed that stood neat and sparse except for a red candlebra with holy sprigs, which she had brought along. In fact, I realised I had never seen her getting any calls either during her stay. In contrast, my bed was filled with gifts and I was flooded with calls from friends and family.
I decided to give her something of mine as a parting gift. I looked around at the things I had and wondered if I could part with any of it. Of course, I couldn't give mom and dad's Yule log with candles, I thought.
What about the new jacket? But, then, my sister badly wanted me to wear it when I reached home. The justifications kept coming even as I climbed onto my bed, placating my guilt by promising myself to call the nearby gift shop to order some flowers for Dollie the next day.
I awoke the next morning with thoughts of returning home, with some of the guilt resurfacing as I remembered that the gift shop wouldn't open for another two days. Moreover, Dollie's train was scheduled before mine.
“I've really enjoyed getting to know you, Dollie,” I finally told her. My words were sincere but I felt guilty for not having followed up on my intentions.
To my surprise, she picked up her only possession, the red candled centre-piece, and gently laid it in my hands. “I'll miss you,” she said, giving me a big hug. “Thank you,” is all I could manage to whisper. As she left I dropped my moist eyes to the small memento in my hand...“Dollie's only gift”, I thought, “and she gave it to me.”
As I heard the doors closing behind Dollie, I knew in my heart that she possessed much more than I did.
Courtesy: Times of India, 16 Jun 2008, 0024 hrs IST, TNNJust then, a voice broke into my reverie. “Hey, I'll be sharing the room with you,” said the 20-something girl who had stepped into the room. She had short, curly grey hair and brown eyes. She stared at the flowers with child-like wonder. She introduced herself as Dollie and we chatted on till it was time for dinner. Not once did she mention her family and neither did I ask. Being in her company, life suddenly seemed easier and she also continued to exclaim excitedly at the cards and flowers I continued to receive.
On our last evening together, Dollie decided to visit the market. As I walked through the room alone, I noticed for the first time the stark contrast between our sides of the room. There was Dollie's bed that stood neat and sparse except for a red candlebra with holy sprigs, which she had brought along. In fact, I realised I had never seen her getting any calls either during her stay. In contrast, my bed was filled with gifts and I was flooded with calls from friends and family.
I decided to give her something of mine as a parting gift. I looked around at the things I had and wondered if I could part with any of it. Of course, I couldn't give mom and dad's Yule log with candles, I thought.
What about the new jacket? But, then, my sister badly wanted me to wear it when I reached home. The justifications kept coming even as I climbed onto my bed, placating my guilt by promising myself to call the nearby gift shop to order some flowers for Dollie the next day.
I awoke the next morning with thoughts of returning home, with some of the guilt resurfacing as I remembered that the gift shop wouldn't open for another two days. Moreover, Dollie's train was scheduled before mine.
“I've really enjoyed getting to know you, Dollie,” I finally told her. My words were sincere but I felt guilty for not having followed up on my intentions.
To my surprise, she picked up her only possession, the red candled centre-piece, and gently laid it in my hands. “I'll miss you,” she said, giving me a big hug. “Thank you,” is all I could manage to whisper. As she left I dropped my moist eyes to the small memento in my hand...“Dollie's only gift”, I thought, “and she gave it to me.”
As I heard the doors closing behind Dollie, I knew in my heart that she possessed much more than I did.
To read the original visit ...
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Lifestyle/Spirituality/Soul_curry_The_magic_of_giving/articleshow/3130649.cms
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