Love is Warm

I read a story recently about a couple from India who moved to New Jersey. Having lived her entire life in the tropics, the bride struggled with the cold reality of winter in her new home. She felt cold all the time, especially when she had to get out of bed. So, her husband got up early each morning to tumble her slippers in the clothes dryer, making that first step into the day a bit warmer.

I grew up in Minnesota and vividly remember waking up on mornings so cold in my bedroom that I could see my breathe. I’d quickly gather my clothes for the day and shiver as I changed in front of the only heat vent upstairs, in cubby hole under a desk.

When we went skiing and our little feet froze, my mother would hold our icy toes between her hands to warm them as quickly as possible, as we drank the hot chocolate she packed along in a thermos.

Love is warm.

We were hatched in a cozy womb and have been heat-seeking missiles ever since. Hugs, not handshakes. Cold feet under our partner’s bum. A dog in the bed. Chicken soup.

What we call love is really the practice of patient attention—of caring enough to imagine how someone else is feeling, and show up with an open heart and a warm cookie. If we each take care of one another, then everyone is taken care of.

I believe there would be peace on earth if everyone started the day with a hot drink, a long hug and slippers fresh from the dryer.

Dearest gentle readers, please share a kindness that warmed your heart: