This afternoon, my senior nurse walked-in my peaceful almost-after-shift hours. Instinctively, I pretended I was busy with whatever. I was already expecting she would bother me with something urgent for tomorrow’s surgery (emergency as usual). Turned out, her purpose wasn’t me. She was telling the other nurse about her childhood memories. Curious about Indian culture I asked her, “sister, how many siblings you have?”. “Only 4 of us; all girls, but really, our papa treated us as queens! We didn’t have a lavished lifestyle but we were happy”, she responded. Something inside me broke.

These days, Im engulfed with the corporate world and its motto I call “endless productivity” and hearing this, melts me. I’m reminded we’re all human beings not a power source. We all speak the same love language. Growing up, I didn’t have a papa like our senior nurse did, but I am thankful I have experienced a lavished love of a Father. Indeed, great is the measure of our Father’s love.

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