You shrink yourself, make yourself smaller in order to make someone comfortable. You think that you don't deserve good things--to be treated well, with love, devotion, and respect. I hear it in your voice when you speak. Even when you speak bravely, there is always an undertone of unworthiness in your speech. I wish I could show you something different. I wish I could show you how wonderful you are, how deserving of love. I wish I could do all these things, but I know that you would never believe it.
If only things were different. Perhaps if I had met you earlier.... I don't know. Would I have been perceptive enough to plant the right seed to help you empower yourself? Would you have sought the same for yourself? I’m left with questions, but I remind myself I am not responsible for your success or failure.
In any case, there’s something in you… there is still a little bit of fire in you left. There's still a spark, yes, I know it's dim, but it is there. It is your hope. You can still fight for yourself. For who you want to be. In that spark is room for transformation, for peace, for excellence, for freedom. I know it hurts to try, but it will be worth it. The sacrifice may seem too big now, but in the long run it will prove fruitful. And you’ll unravel a mystery, a beauty about yourself, that radiating splendour that drew me to comfort you, a stranger.
I don’t know if you still remember this moment from what feels like many eons ago. But even as I gave you comfort in your moment of distress; I also want you to know that you comforted me as well.
**
When I wrote these words, I didn’t realize they were for you until a long-forgotten memory flashed in my mind. Do you remember how we met? We met in a bathroom; we came out of the stall simultaneously. I saw that you’d been crying but you tried to hide it with composure. I washed my hands, feeling awkward, wondering if I should say anything. I remember that as I reached for the paper towel stacked in between the sinks, you involuntarily burst into fresh sobs. I came to you and wordlessly enveloped you into a hug, doing my best to comfort and soothe you.
We ended up having ice cream, and we just talked, sharing stories, talking about life, our hopes, and dreams long buried. I don’t recall if in our conversation you alluded to why you were disoriented prior. Did we even exchange names?
After this conversation, I remember wishing I’d said something to shatter all doubt and uncertainty that you were feeling at that time, rather than contrived words of encouragement.
But reminiscing of this encounter, it makes me see the importance of listening. Of being present. Of comforting others in the midst of whatever storms they are caught up in. And, in comforting others, sometimes you too are comforted.
**
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for some have entertained angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13: 2)
