Absinthe
Living my life as an exclamation, not an explanation...

 

It should be noted by readers that Absinthe is not a lawyer, and anything posted in this blog should not be used as a substitute for professional advice from a lawyer













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  Sunday, December 03, 2006



I have a small wooden box (WxLxH=6'x10'x3').   It is intricately carved with leaves, has a hinged lid, and the interior is lined in blue velvet.  It is a beautiful box, and I have had it for a very long time.

I got the box from a woman my dad dated a couple of times when I was 8.  She worked at my younger brother's daycare, and she had beautiful brown hair which was very long.

I don't remember her name, but I remember her fondly...she was always very kind to me.  The two times I visited her house, I was in awe of the decor and ambience...she lived with her sister, and both had spent two years travelling through India and other exotic places.  Their small house was filled with beautiful exotic knick-knacks, funky furniture and oriental rugs, and was perfused with the heady scent of incense.  I *loved* their house.

I was always a shy and quiet girl, but each time this woman saw me, she always tried to draw me out into conversation.  The two times I visited her house, she would pick up some random object, then explain to me at length where they had gotten it.  Then she gave me the object (which I never in a million years would ever have been rude enough to ask for, either directly or indirectly).   The wooden box is one of those objects.  It came from a bazaar in Katmandu.  The other object was a granny square quilt stuffed with wool (it has long since disintegrated from too many washings).

In recent years I hadn't used the box for much, but recently I put it on my beside table to hold my medications and other sundry items.  In the evening I sometimes pick up the box and run my fingers over its carvings, trying to imagine the person who carved it over 30 years ago, and also trying to imagine the bazaar where it was acquired.

Even though it always hasn't been in active duty, the box is one of my favourite possessions; it reminds me of the impact selfless acts of kindness and giving can have on those around you.  I often try to be selfless, but alas my ego sometimes partially or fully trips me up, and while the resulting acts might be kind and giving, they sometimes aren't done with a true spirit of selflessness.  This is something I am trying to work on as time goes on. To help me along, I have the box to remind me as to what selfless giving really means.

I wish I could contact that woman and let her know I still have that box, and what it still means to me.


12:17:21 PM    




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