1. People quietly living their lives. There’s a woman in my condo who, on first glance, looks sparkless and shuffling. She does not go to work and appears not to have many friends (nor relatives it seems) around her. But I’ve seen her face light up as she wheels her elderly father in his wheelchair to collect the mail. She is so attentive, chipper and careful with him though he sits there, motionless and unseeing – his eyes cloudy. Her life is quiet but she is living it so beautifully. I can see it on her lit face – it is the face of devotion.

2. Stigma. Oops, this one slipped out. This is one of my long ones – for later (when I’ve forgotten my commitment to short posts).

3. My mother’s chicken soup. At first word of a cold/flu type illness, the pot comes out, the switch turns on, the water boils and the most garlicky, carroty, celery-y, gingery, barley-y, oniony, cilantro-y, turmericy, chickeny smell (that’s right, I know exactly how to make it and have promised my mom to carry on the tradition with my children and grandchildren, insha’Alllah) emanates from the kitchen. And you’re cured. Just like that. And you can blog again. Just like that. (Though I’m sure my mother is frowning. Hey, that’s not why I whipped together my chicken soup. So she can blog.)