The Priceless Rose

I once gave up my seat on public transport to an elderly man. I moved out of his way and turned in the other direction. 

Suddenly, I felt a tugging on my bag. I turned and saw him thanking me. He beckoned me so I turned and faced him. We got chatting and laughing. 

And then he took coloured paper out of his bag. And started teaching me how to make a rose and leaf. 

Before he left, to my surprise, he gave me the rose, a leaf and the littlest box to put them in! 

All I did was give up my seat and in return, I enjoyed this beautiful, warm exchange and received a precious, priceless rose I still keep. 

I’ve shown the paper rose to my niece, since she was tiny, sharing the little story behind it. And I once showed it to the audience when I was a speaker talking about service that starts closer to home, in ordinary ways.

I don’t recall what we were chatting and laughing about anymore. But when I look at the rose, I remember feeling the joy of connecting with a stranger – uncommon where I live. I remember the power of small acts of service. I remember the beauty of gratitude. I remember the special, heartfelt magic of a hand-made gift money cannot buy. I remember teaching with this littlest rose. So much that fits into my palm. 

When has your full presence to your surroundings allowed you to be vigilant to what others need?

What have you received that cannot be bought and touched your heart?

Vadivu Govind