Dear ……..,

I frowned a little bit when I opened the package. Frowning seems to help with remembering, and while I stood in the post office I was wracking my brain trying to think whether I’d bought a book recently. I hadn’t bought a book though, and yet here was a book still sitting in my hands.

A beautiful book, that just reading the first paragraph within the sleeve had me smiling and knowing I was going to love it. I frowned again, trying to think… now who could have given it to me?

To Brydie, from Brydie.

I made some phone calls and sent some messages. None of those people had sent me this book.

My finger traced the front cover and my heart felt fuller, as I tried to think of who it could be. On a week that had felt rather overwhelming with all that motherhood and life had to offer it came at a wonderful time. Who would be so kind and thoughtful? Whose such generous kindness had I been the recipient of?

I didn’t know and it looked like I wasn’t supposed to know. I filled the coffee pot, got my favourite cup out, settled the little people and opened it up. I loved it.

Truly inspiring.

Both from the beautiful book and also, from the kindness of others.

With an enormous amount of gratitude, thank you.

Brydie. xxx

**************

FRANZ KAFKA, frustrated with his living quarters and day job, wrote in a letter to Felice Bauer in 1912, “time is short, my strength is limited, the office is a horror, the apartment is noisy, and if a pleasant, straightforward life is not possible then one must try to wiggle through by subtle maneuvres.”- Daily Rituals, How Artists Work.