I'm falling behind with this whole blog thing. I've been so caught up in this little life of mine that I forget to tell people about it sometimes. But hey! maybe this little life of mine isn't so little afterall.
Let me tell you about it. Upon entering the neighborhood cafe (yes, I'm calling Bread Co. "neighborhood" for theatrics), I spot someone who I haven't seen in a couple of years. A kid someone, nonetheless, who isn't so much a kid anymore as he is turning into a young man. When I dealt with him at work, he was a sore that I knew could be soothed, but never really knew if that would be accomplished since I left for the other side of the world. The shock is that he remembered me. Walked right up and said hi. Then proceeded to ask how I was and what as I was doing as if he cared.
At school I got a journal entry from a kindergarden - an "ode to Ms. Cassi" I would call it. The gesture was enough to get me thinking that it is possible for my mundane or troubling days to actually mean something to someone, or ones.
Let me tell you about it. Upon entering the neighborhood cafe (yes, I'm calling Bread Co. "neighborhood" for theatrics), I spot someone who I haven't seen in a couple of years. A kid someone, nonetheless, who isn't so much a kid anymore as he is turning into a young man. When I dealt with him at work, he was a sore that I knew could be soothed, but never really knew if that would be accomplished since I left for the other side of the world. The shock is that he remembered me. Walked right up and said hi. Then proceeded to ask how I was and what as I was doing as if he cared.
At school I got a journal entry from a kindergarden - an "ode to Ms. Cassi" I would call it. The gesture was enough to get me thinking that it is possible for my mundane or troubling days to actually mean something to someone, or ones.
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