From My Desk at Work

The window near my desk at work looks out at a school for children with special needs.

Sometimes, just in the middle of a sentence I’m writing or a word I’m pondering over, I look out the window towards the school. Almost always, there is someone with a happy face to smile back at me. Sometimes I look up because a student has thrust his or her hand through the window to shake mine. It’s so refreshing to not worry about norms and conventions and personal space. I’m more than happy to shake hands and say my name because everything is received with such delight.

Even the teachers look so content. They’re either laughing with each other or holding a student’s hand and walking off purposefully towards a classroom or receiving a hug from a student or scolding another. It makes me feel so relieved – that there are still people in this world who do things for other people. Those who do good things for the sake of doing them, not needing any acknowledgement or reward for their efforts. That’s what happens when you do work that nourishes you from the inside.

And then there’s me, wallowing in self-pity over not being acknowledged enough.

Which is why I keep looking out the window . . . maybe some of the school’s fairy dust will eventually settle on me.