V

It is the small things that break me down. Yesterday the world lost and God gained a beautiful soul. She worked for a friend, and I only met her a few times. I am very saddened by her loss, for her family and for my friend. The few times I met her, she made me feel like there was no one on earth she would rather see at that moment. She would be excited, girlish despite her age. She had a light I have rarely seen. She cleaned houses for folks, and I had the impression that she worked very hard to help provide for her family. She was honest, diligent, and had a level of authentic integrity I could only hope to attain. The world is a darker place without her.
I watched her interact with my friend, who hired her to clean her house. It was touching to watch them together. My friend was quite a bit younger than V, but they chatted like sisters. Two beautiful women, one Muslim, one Christian with no barriers, no class divisions, no need for roles. I always thought their friendship was a testament to their faith: My friend treated her with dignity and often paid her far more than she had to. V was her giddy older sister, caring and doting. Two women living in and sharing God's grace.
It is the small things that break me down: V's squeal when she saw me or she knew I was on the phone, my friend's gentle smile when they bantered back and forth. I morn V's departure and my friend's loss, but it is the small things that break me down.