Miracle food

Today, I woke up with a heavy head and an empty stomach, feeling drained and unable to muster the strength to get out of bed. I lay there, layering the blankets on top of me, allowing the warmth to cocoon my body as I drifted in and out of sleep until noon.

I had lost all motivation to cook or even lift a finger. The thought of food seemed daunting, and I resigned myself to staying in bed, hoping the day would pass quickly.

Just when I had given up on the idea of having a cooked meal, a gentle knock on the door interrupted the silence. It was my neighbor, Nick. He stood there with a plate of warm, steaming rice in his hands. It was as if God had sent him, knowing that I needed help.

Without a word, I stretched out my hand and accepted the food gratefully. Nick came in and we sat together, discussing the mundane and the meaningful. In our conversation, he mentioned that his power bank had run out, and I gladly lent him mine without a second thought.

It turned out to be a beautiful Sunday, unexpected and heartwarming. The simple act of kindness from my neighbor restored my faith in humanity and made me realize that even in the midst of my struggles, there are still moments of grace and connection.