“Your bath water’s getting cold!” shouted a cross voice from the other room, “and if you don’t hurry, you’ll fall sick bathing in cold water!” The old lady I was speaking to, turned to me apologetically, “that’s my daughter, she’s got a heart of gold, but she don’t like to show it!”

I waited alone in the room as the lady went for her bath, but was soon joined by her daughter who sat silently sipping a cup of tea after she’d offered me the same.

“Your mother says you’ve got a heart of gold!” I said after some time.

“Did she?” asked the daughter, and suddenly her hard face became gentle.

“Yes,” I said, “but gold is meant to be seen! If it doesn’t see the light of day, we’ll never feel its beauty!”

“What d’you mean?” asked the girl.

“Why d’you feel shy about showing your feelings?”

The girl studied me and then put her head down, “It embarrasses me!”

“Being kind embarrasses you?”

“Yes,” she whispered, “I guess it’s a part of me I don’t want people to see!”

“Why should gold be hidden from others?” I asked again.

“So it won’t be stolen? So I won’t be battered by the world or known as a softy!”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” I asked gently, “afraid that in seeing you being kind people will see you vulnerable?”

“Yes!” whispered the girl and we were silent, sipping our tea. I then watched as she walked over to the other room to check on her mother, “Mom you okay?” she asked.

She came back and sat down.

“How much kindness,” I sighed, “is walled round by brusqueness, and harshness!”

“Most people are afraid like me aren’t they?”

“Would being gentle and kind to your mother make her take advantage of you?” I asked suddenly and felt the girl struggling to give me a reply.

“Would she take advantage?” I pressed.

“No!” said the girl.

“On the contrary wouldn’t mum feel good to hear words from your heart coming spontaneously out and warming her?”

“Yes,” said the girl, “she would!”

“It’s we,” I said, “who feel we’ll become weaker expressing our feelings, on the contrary it takes a strong man to say ‘I love you’ to his wife!”

I watched as the old lady walked back to her room, “Mother let me dry your hair for you,” said her daughter and made her sit on a chair and gently wiped her mothers head with a towel. I saw the look of surprise on the old lady’s face then watched a tear beginning its long journey down her daughter’s cheek. “Thank you!” she whispered as I left the room.

Unwrapping kindness was quite a pleasant experience for both..!

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