Little children’s books

When I was a child, my mother took me to the local public library. My elder siblings and I would nestle ourselves in little plastic chairs after arming ourselves with our favourite books from the old metal shelves. Running bare footed on the discoloured worn out carpets, we searched for familiar drawings that depicted the stories we knew best. I always got the one with a family of rabbits that had endless amount of things to busy themselves with in their endlessly big fluffy family. There were bunny rabbits drawn all over the book in different parts of their underground home, carrots and toys and items drawn in compactly within each turn of page. I loved how it made my eyes move all over the place, consistently and amusingly amazed every time I went through the little book. It was a little book and yet it was warm and endearing all at once.

Who’d knew then that 15 years down the road, those moments would mean so much to me. Memories which try as I may, are among the precious few that surface when I recall my childhood.

I love my mother for bringing us to the little library whenever she could.

It’s a blur what time does when it transcends your mind from its existence way back to now. What seems so big now meant so little to pint-sized me, then.

I sat by the pool at my friend’s new place of stay, one of these past few days. I looked up between the tall apartment buildings, concrete structure rising high above me with the back drop of bright blue skies. The breeze that whistled its way between the towering blocks was cool while I felt the sun behind me gently beating down the back of my neck. The gurgling waters of la piscine made for light white noise as I sat on the pebbled bench and closed my eyes, taking it all in.

It’s amazing what a little wind and white noise can do for the soul. It’s a miracle I feel whole just sitting there, being there with my God.

I’ve had that final chat with a guy who took me one semester to know and to know I didn’t need.
I’ve also had a honest talk with someone, finally, to clear up some past misunderstandings.

That one person I thought was my ideal, we’re great friends and I’ve wished him well –with his pursuit.

These are days I walk on with a smile on my face, because I know I’ve been through and got through all these things. While, yes ofcourse there’s still many things to happen. But I’m not going to give in, I’m going to keep choosing God and trusting him –the true author and perfector of my faith. The one who went with my mum and I to the library, the one who made me remember my love for books when I was a teenager and the one who is with me now as I pursue a degree in Anthropology and Sociology so I can be a writer with content.

Someday I’ll be a writer.
Someday I’ll meet a man after God’s heart, whom I’d share my life with.

And someday I’ll take our kids to the library too.
We’d read many, many books. Many times of the same books, whatever it is I am looking forward to it.

lei

Looking out the window

I always believe that everything is a conscious effort. Every move is a conscious decision we make as small as it is, it determines who we are, affecting who we’ll be and the relationships we keep.

I believe that in my tight knit of friends, we’ve never been this way before. Break it down to only me and my best, I know that every time I choose to say something that uplifts her and encourage her, our friendship climbs a little higher and proves to grow a little stronger.

My family is an entity very close to my heart like the stitches keeping it together. Even they have shown me, that as I’m growing up and learning  to not talk so much, my parents are slowly starting to listen to me. Sure, they still don’t for the most part, but when I honestly told each of them to be kinder to one another, they didn’t hiss back at me. I know they heard it.

And having to have worked for the past three months, and now still working but with more flexible schedule, I’ve felt the need to make every effort I can to stay by them until I felt sad when I couldn’t. Even if it’s just watching the news or eating dinners together. They know it and I know that I’m leaving soon and there’s a little heartache within our little home and the cars we ride in. Silently when I hear the Mother’s Day greetings on the radio and families be so effortlessly loving on tv,  I etch closer in my courage to tell them how I feel. Once in awhile it falls after a fight, and even then the guilt I feel for fighting with my folks is so strong.

At the same time,

I know I’m walking along the grassy patches. The plush carpets that grow between paths.

I know and I’m looking at things, I’m taking a conscious effort to put you in. Ask you if this is right, because I know in the depths of my heart..I know I want to always be faithful.

As much as this is fun and new and exciting, there’s this one thing where everybody feels and experienced before. Something’s missing. I don’t know about them, but I know it’s you. Sure, it sounds like I’m talking to thin air..but between the physical, mental and emotional threads that make me, there’s a living breathing need to be loved. To be accepted and assured by family. Sure a human family and a partner and friends, but first and foremost a family that is you.

I’d always have this habit of looking out the window; Standing by the doors of my classroom or staring up into the sky on my walks. I always wanted to know what was there, beyond what I could see and all the promise it held for me. Just like how beautifully you’d paint the sky, maybe my life could hold that much wonder.

Looking out the window, as a metaphoric mini me in my soul looks out into life, I’d like to see myself waking up beside a man who loves me in a life that makes you proud of me. As much as I can’t predetermine the course of my life and I need to be open to what life gives me, it’s these seemingly unimportant decisions that will bring me to my destination. And, I choose to not go with the flow. I choose to be led.

And that’s my decision.

lei