Often times the question is asked, What is love? and with a shrug off my shoulders my answer had always been a simple I don’t know,
but as I placed large X’s on my calendar cancelling out the important events that would have completed my day.
As I clad myself in my working attire on a busy Sunday morning and pulled my hair into a messy ponytail.
As I sunk my feet into my work boots, checked the time and bolted out into the yard,
As I sat beside my mother as she sped along the winding road, destination twelve houses away,
As we parked alongside the road of the narrow street,
As we waved to the persons we met alongside the road,
As we trudged through grass that covered my five foot frame,
As our feet touched the crooked wooden step of the little old house,
As we exchanged smiles and good mornings to my uncle and his friends,
As we swept and mopped the dirty floor of his house,
As we tackled the dirty dishes in the sink, scrubbing them until our reflection shone,
As we rearranged and decorated,
As we placed the freshly cooked food and box juices on his table,
As we sat and chatted before leaving,
As his grin widened and his eyes shone with deep appreciation,
As he waved us off to our own home,
As my heart bubbled over in happiness,
All I can think is that this is love,
Love is kind and thoughtful,
Love isn’t selfish.