A Gift | Chapter 4, Birthday Cake

She came in through the front door, just as she did every weekday at approximately 3:22 PM. On the outside, she was tough. I remember watching her fight a boy with her words and her palms. But on the inside, she was soft. This is a story about her inside.

It’s not mine to tell, but most good stories are ones we’ve heard from other people. Taking us somewhere we’ve never been, they show us something we’ve never seen. This story is one from my mother, a woman who loves and gives with all of her heart.

Her name was Malaysia. She would sit on a wobbly stool while my mother chopped onions or garlic or whatever else started that night’s dinner. I don’t know what they talked about, but whatever it was made her stay. I remember the yellow sign on her down-the-street house that deemed it unsafe to live in. I remember the 11 other children who lived there, too. I remember the kind-smiled grandmother that sometimes fed them blue jello for breakfast.

This particular day was a special one for Malaysia, but she expected no one to remember. My mother did. When Malaysia assumed her usual spot on the kitchen stool, my mother opened the freezer and pulled out a leftover piece of a sister’s birthday cake. She stuck one candle in the middle and sang the song we all know. As a child, I was confused by the tears in Malaysia's eyes.

“Why would you do this for me?”, she asked. The tough little girl melted like the piece of ice cream cake in front of her.

A gift is seeing something and thinking of someone and making the effort to love. What you do is where your heart is. My mother loved that little girl with what she had to give, and it met the soft place inside of her. We all have one of those, but letting it show and feel is intensely tremendous and uncertain. Especially for me. But we can’t feel wholehearted love in a strong, sure shell.

Halfway love isn’t love at all.

All the way love is patient and kind and waits for the other person to receive it. All the way love isn’t territorial about ice cream.

Each schoolday afternoon, I saw my mother give love. On that day, I watched Malaysia accept it. If the receiver isn’t ready, all the way love isn’t wasted. Realizing the truth about love can take time, and waiting for that moment can take patience.

Little girls really like it when someone remembers their birthday.

Article by, Madeline Long