Two days ago while I was lying on my back staring at the laptop on the sofa, Kai saw me and said, "The edges of your T-shirt curl up. You'll catch a cold." He insisted on making them smooth and flat for me before going away.
Yesterday I attended a workshop on djembe. At the end of the lesson, everyone's palms were red and swollen. The instructor wanted us to pair up and massage each other's back. Suddenly my dilemma as a single gal surfaced again. Before I could react, the other single women near me had found partners. Only a middle-aged gentleman who was kind of far away from me was left. At this moment, the single ladies looked at us suggesting, "Why don't you two form a group?" No sooner had I begun to feel embarrassed than he came up to me saying, "I'll help you." After I sat down, he pulled up my hood and flattened my T-shirt with tenderness first. It was a gentleman who is as elegant as a tai-chi master. Then we thanked each other for the beautiful encounter and went on our own life journey without leaving any contacts at all.
These two pairs of hands, whether intimate or foreign, are both so full of good will.