little women

One of my favourite books of all time. I just reread it for the umpteenth time. A book which inspires us to be good, in the truest sense of the word, to sow love in the people around you, because love is its own reward.

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Just the other night I was sitting in my corner trying to make new year resolutions and I realised... I was 20. Another page had been flipped, and I've arrived at a new chapter altogether. In the next 10 years the biggest and most momentous decisions of my life would be made, and the course of my future would be set. Scary thought...

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My New Year's Eve was spent very differently this year, and amidst all the wishes and smiles, my mind couldn't stop reliving the past. And I realised. We all have different ways of looking back at our bygones. Some people face it squarely head-on, some people run. I'd always thought I've been a brave girl so far, but for once I chose to be honest with myself and God. More honest than I'd been all year anyway.

The truth is... I hide from the past. From painful memories. From shameful truth. I don't even have the guts to run. I just stand there, rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in the headlights, and I shut my eyes so that the ugliness around me would disappear.

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The old man and woman to whom I waved goodbye, promising to visit often and pray for.
One visit and lightning prayers were all I could spare.

The friend with whom I thought we had a special friendship which could overcome the challenges of time and distance.
I let my disappointment that I was one of the last to know overwhelm me.

The woman who loved her little girl so much she tried to protect her against every emotional pitfall.
I reciprocate with defiance.

The Father to whom I promised to love forever.
I give him 15 minutes of my time each day. And it's almost always me rambling on and on.

The brood of cousins who look up to her for encouragement, love and guidance.
She treats them like digital pets. Tended to only when free.

The guy with whom she thought she could spend forever with.
They haven't exchanged words in the past year.

The friends whose departure I'd cried over and promised to stay in touch with.
My excuse: too little time.

The church she thought she'd get married in.
It feels more like a building than a family.

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Everyone has issues. Some people try to work them out. I bemoan their existence and hope that it's enough to make it go away. What do you do with what hurts you? The world tells you to shut them out, to be strong. If you don't let them in they can't hurt you. What do you do?

All things work together for the good of those who love Him, according to His word. So so very true:

The course of study she'd hesitated so much over. Unwilling to forgo dreams for a calling.
The peace she found when she surrendered.

The university she thought she was meant to study at and the disappointment at its rejection.
The love and friendship she now possesses that she wouldn't exchange for anything in the world.

The ministry she'd devoted her time to as a backup option.
The joy she has every time those sweet voices sing with their hearts.
Their innocent friendship.

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Sometimes we think we know what we want so badly, and we just damnit won't let go until we have it. What I've learnt is things fall naturally into their place, if we let time run its proper course. We do our part, and we trust.

I CANNOT begin to tell you how afraid I am of year 2. So you're not alone =)

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Oh I finished How I Met Your Mother season 3. They say what and who you treasure most will flash before your eyes when death is moments away. What would flash before yours? =)

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Parting note:

Holding a hand of each, and watching the two young faces wistfully, Mrs. March said, in her serious yet cheery way . . .

"I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good. To be admired, loved, and respected. To have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send.

To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman, and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience. It is natural to think of it, Meg, right to hope and wait for it, and wise to prepare for it, so that when the happy time comes, you may feel ready for the duties and worthy of the joy... "

"Poor girls don't stand any chance, Belle says, unless they put themselves forward," sighed Meg.

"Then we'll be old maids," said Jo stoutly.

"Right, Jo. Better be happy old maids than unhappy wives, or unmaidenly girls, running about to find husbands," said Mrs. March decidedly. "Don't be troubled, Meg, poverty seldom daunts a sincere lover. Some of the best and most honored women I know were poor girls, but so love-worthy that they were not allowed to be old maids. Leave these things to time. Make this home happy, so that you may be fit for homes of your own, if they are offered you, and contented here if they are not. One thing remember, my girls. Mother is always ready to be your confidant, Father to be your friend, and both of us hope and trust that our daughters, whether married or single, will be the pride and comfort of our lives."

Poverty. How often we forget how rich we are in home comforts.


May this new year be truly happy.