WHAT IS YOUR PRECIOUS THING?
A life lesson still remembered as if it was yesterday - one I call the chaise lounge.
Come with me into my childhood living room, a small rectangular room with an open coal fire at one end. The warmth and smell of burning coal filling the air. Cans of McEwan’s Export and bowls of crisps sit on the coffee table. Two women are deep in conversation, one is my mother, the other her friend Susan. They sit in the two rather ragged pale beige, deep armchairs while I lie out on a dark chocolate brown velvet sofa - which sits against one wall. I remember it as squishy and comfortable; especially if you had the whole thing to yourself. Under the window is a chaise Longue. This piece of furniture we had owned for a long time and had only recently been able to afford to have it re- upholstered. It was a plush pink velvet, a sort of orangey pink. It looked out of place, so smart compared to the other furniture. The handmade coffee table in the centre of the room was a weird shape. My dad had made it from a piece of driftwood. It had three legs and had the vague shape of a capitol A. TMy mum and her friend were talking about work and a new flat Susan had recently moved into. It seemed she had split from her husband and was going it alone. They were good friends, although they hadn’t known one another for long. Susan had wavy auburn hair and loads of freckles. She had a kindly face and made me feel welcome in the room: just listening in, keeping myself to myself, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the relaxed atmosphere. Susan admired the chaise longue.
My mum turned to her and said “You can have it, if you like. We’ll bring it over at the weekend.” Susan tried to protest but my mum was insistent. That chaise longue was my mum’s pride and joy. We all loved it. We’d had it many years, all threadbare and well used. Its recent transformation was delightful. Yet here she was, totally out of the blue, offering it to her friend who needed to furnish a flat. Clearly, a friend in need. I was flabbergasted. I thought my mum was drunk! When the friend left. I asked “Why did you give Susan our chaise longue? We’ve only just done it up and we all love it”. My mum simply said “You will soon learn that it is much more satisfying to give than to receive. Susan needs it more than we do”. And you know, this lesson has stuck with me. Give what you can whether it be a smile, an act of kindness, wise advice or a beloved belonging. The recipient of your gift will treasure it and remember it and will most likely do the same for another in need. My mum’s lesson has stuck, a simple act of kindness breeds more kindness; making our world a place worth living in. That lady, my mum’s friend Susan, came back a few months later to say goodbye. She was going to Papua New Guinea with VSO (Voluntary Services Overseas). I never saw her again.
Ann (LDN)
HOLA SOBER | MADRID
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