As part of a six-week course I am doing, I was asked to take a test to discover which emotions most strongly drive me. When the results came back, they stopped me in my tracks. The two emotions that rose above all others were empathy and compassion. They surprised me. Not because I have thought…
Tag: tenderness
Love Kneels Down
On Maundy Thursday, I find myself deeply moved by the thought that love kneels. Not proud.Not distant.Not hurried.But low enough to wash feet.Low enough to serve.Low enough to remain tender, even with suffering already gathering at the door. There is something about that image that reaches into me in a very personal way. That on…
Tender Beginnings
Although the day might have seemed like just another day, to me it felt like the world had paused for a moment, holding its breath for something extraordinary. The day felt charged, alive, touched by something beyond the usual routine of life. It was one of those rare moments where I could feel the earth…
Water over Rock
There are some places that seem to hold a feeling for you, so that when you return, something in you settles before you even understand why. Marysville is like that for me. This summer, on one of those fierce Australian days when the heat feels almost solid, we found ourselves drawn again to the mountain…
Next To You
Yesterday was one of those days that start normally but end with your heart in your throat. My elderly dad had a fall. It ended well, thank God, but at the time it was frightening. The ambulance came, kind paramedics checked him over, and in the evening my brother and my husband Peter took him…
True Beauty
During my visit to the hospital to see my mum today, I shared the elevator with an elderly couple. They got off one floor before me, and as I watched the gentleman gently take the lady’s hand and lead her out of the lift, my whole world seemed to pause for a moment. I found…
Something to Smile About
What makes you smile? I sometimes think life poses this question softly, in the middle of the most ordinary moments. Not during the grand occasions we prepare for and photograph and remember, but in the passing fragments of an ordinary day — while walking through a supermarket, sitting at a red light, or driving home…
My Dad, My Hero
I was told that when I came into this world, my father was especially glad that the baby placed into his arms was a little girl. I have often pictured that moment in my mind — my father looking down at me with love already rising in him, holding me carefully in his hands as…
Bedtime Story
When I was a little girl, about six years old, living in Helsinki, one of my mother’s dearest friends came to our home for supper. Her name was Eila. She lived nearby and had known our family since before I was born. She belonged to that rare kind of friendship that seems to outlast the…
Apples of Gold 