It was late evening.
The weather was beautiful outside, with slight breeze flowing.
I looked outside my window.
It was quite dark, with the exception of the street light of our compound.
I am home alone with my three brats.
Loneliness and anxiety is my company.
My visiting guest has gone out, keeping me waiting.
My ever there partner too has left for an urgent meeting.
Endless calls to friends don’t heal me.
I take the phone and ring to the better half.
'You know that lane next to S.L. Street??' I ask him, matter of fact.
'Yes, what about it" asks my weary husband.
'Well, there is a pastry shop there, where we get delicious pineapple pastry" I tell him.
'Five please, I, want to eat more than one'- I explain.
One for each of my kid and two for me
He murmurs yes, and I keep the phone.
I retreat back to my melancholy.
Watching my kids, without any emotions.
They are complaining to me of their various issues.
And I just answer them with “mmhhs, oks.and
“Why you did that for”
Just then I hear my name.
It is a women voice.
It’s coming from outside.
I recognize the voice.
I open the door,
It’s a neighbor.
She’s standing there in the darkness in all her simple beauty, with the reflection of the street light on her.
A Smile on her face.
Her hair as usual is left flowing.
The breezes letting it fly a bit.
I notice a pretty enclosed bowl in her hand
“It’s my sons’ birthday"
'So I got a small piece 'she says
She leaves me after few seconds of conversation,
I stand outside the house, taken aback by this unexpected happening with the bowl and the beauty of the night as company.
Hearing my children calling me, I quickly get inside the house,
And four of us, open the bowl.
Butter scotch cake, with whipped cream.
I attack it, enjoying its taste in all its glory.
Taste of heaven, is the only right word my taste buds declare.
I let all my senses enjoy the cake, thanking the Almighty.
For healing our hearts in the most unexpected ways.