Someone else’s prayer

Three years ago on a car fight with a loved one I threw some unnecessary words that I know will wound him the most, only to validate my own feelings and emotion which neither important nor tangible. I remember he got so mad at me he threw some words back just to hurt my already so little confidence and faith I had for myself.

It was not a model relationship, and I resent the self I had that time. I resent the self that did not read enough good book, did not get enough sleep, did not know where to go. I hated the self whose self image and confidence and faith could only come from validated emotion even if it’s at the expense of someone else’s feeling. It wasn’t even selfishness, it was being self centered. And self centered self is always worse than just being selfish. Self centered self means you are indifferent towards life, you just care about yourself. It means you see relationship as a mere functioning ship to feed on your ego.

I remember tho, we were quiet after all the yell. The car stopped in a stoplight, and as always little kids to adults to even grandma and grandpas were there. Selling knick-knacks, peanuts, or newspaper. I also remember when I saw a grandma older than my own, slowly approaching my car, I opened the window without thinking and bought her newspaper.

It was 4 p.m. I don’t care about news since most of them are almost always depressing and if something is worthwhile I’d probably heard that already. However I bought the paper.

This small act of kindness I did is in no way trying to be boastful, in case someone uses the wrong glasses today. I just want to share what happens afterwards. She, in a soft voice said “May all the happiness be with you. May you be blessed. Thank you.*” and I nodded in exchange of that.

 That was the sincerest prayer I’ve received in my whole life.

He with his hands on the steering wheel looked at me and said this,”See, you’re a good person. Try to understand your own mixed feeling and emotion then deliver it in a nicer way.”

And we stopped fighting.

It’s funny. I don’t even remember what we were fighting about. True, I remember it was dark and depressing and no one should go that far just to validate their own emotion, but I couldn’t remember the subject. I don’t really want to.

But I remember the 10 seconds prayer said by someone on a scorching hot afternoon in the city.

It’s all in priorities, isn’t it?

That prayer changed my perspective which in the end change my life. No, I did not go back home and think I should study politic then become the president that changes the country to give better life to people. I’m still me, writing, baking, and living life. I’m still hanging on, and sometimes I still fail on hanging on.

But that prayer, that whispered prayer has become a proof that the world, no matter how messed up, no matter how many bad news we heard/read/saw, is still a good place. It has become a proof that I was indeed loved. It has become a proof that even though most of us are mediocre, we shall not stop giving our best.

After all, she gave all of her best to walk car to car on 4 p.m in the afternoon to sell newspaper.

*more or less

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