Someday, in the far far future,
as I cook together with my children,
I'll tell them stories of my early years in KL, far away from home.
Of the days when I feel lost.
The days when I feel like nothing's gonna work out.
The days when I wanted to give up but I can't.
The days when I had no choice but to drag my feet and walk on.
I'll tell them how God had been kind to me.
I'll tell them of the beautiful souls I met.
I'll tell them of the many houses I visited and how they made me feel at home.
And I'll tell them,
despite my failure in loving my own self,
they had made me feel loved.
Here's a non-related picture.
This post is not exactly written on this date but with excerpts and notes written on the particular date of this event.
