Leave a Light on

Those who were shown kindness by their families and those around them, are more than likely, to pass along the kindness shown to them to others, translated…

Being able to read underneath a lamplight, this is, the most leisurely thing, and, the light at sunset, doesn’t just symbolize the light in the darkness, it’d, offered me that strength, provided this drifter’s heart, a place of stay.

In order to squeeze into the limited spots of the public universities, I’d, stayed at home until the night to study, and, my peers and I would, cram the books, until the campus security was about to, close of the school, and, I’d often, dragged my, fatigued body, onto that final night bus.

like this???  So bright, when everything else is dark all around, isn’t it???  Not my photo…

After I alighted the bus, my mind was, filled with the formulas, the ancient Chinese texts, I just wanted to, relax some, and would select a seat by the windows, and just, watch the world outside, quietly, pass me by. The city in the depth of the nights, was most bright, on those streets, there were, usually, people and cars, cramping up roads, the neon signs, blinked so bright, and, the headlights of the cars that sped past, hurt my eyes.

But, as the bus sped toward my home in the suburbs, I could, feel the loneliness that comes hand in hand with the depth of the nights. Every time the bus reached the terminal station, the shops are closed, the residences, asleep too, the road became, so emptied, so quiet, you can hear the faucet drip; and I’m, a timid girl in her days of youth, and, the way home from the terminal station, even if it was, only a five-minute walk, it’d become, so very, long, and, it’d, made me fearful, traveling it.

But thankfully, there was, always that shadow by my side, it was, my down-to-earth, dear old dad. Every evening at ten, he’d, turn a lamp light on in the house, then, walked, slowly, to the bus stop, and wait for me there. As I’d, dragged my tired body, from cramming the texts off of that gasoline scented bus, as I saw that familiar shape, waiting for me under the streetlamp, even if the cold wind attacked, I’d still, felt all warmed up inside. My pops who’s very kindred and not at all talkative, after I’d, hollered out at him, he’d, smiled that light smile, then, walked ahead of me, and, the old streetlamps, illuminated both my dad and my torso, that elongated shadow, dragged along, on the tarp road, like an extension, of the love we feel for, one another.

illustration from the papers…

That five minute we’d walked in silence still, clear in my mind, and, my father’s keeping guard over me became like that bright lamplight, made me feel settled, and, it’d, calmed my angst too.

And now, as I’d, started working, I’d still, gotten trapped, inside that cycle of the loops of the night, but thankfully, I have a couple of good girlfriends at the office, who’d, consoled me with good advices, told me, that no matter how hard life gets, I will eventually, see the light; they are, just like my dad, the gentle, warm lamplights, calmed, and guided me, helped me through a series of trials of my life.

Looking back over the thirty years of life, I saw how many kind souls had, turned a light on for me, and those few lamps, although not as bright as the fireworks, but, they’re, only, endowed, to those who are, more than, blessed. I’m truly grateful, to have these wonderful people in my life, to help me through the lows of my life, to give light to my life. And, I’d, hoped, that someday, I will too, have what it takes, to become, the light, for that someone else, to give more meaning, to my own life.

And so, this, is how the cycle of love and kindness passes down, from person to person, because this woman was shown kindness and love, by her father, then, by her coworker and girlfriends, she’d found the social and emotional support she’d needed, to help her carry on, and, I’m sure, that one day when she’s able to, she would become, someone who offers someone else in need a hand.