This is about a surprise gift that blew me away. It’s a personalized leather wallet given to me by a young girl, who is as pretty as she is smart, and loves books. It came with a heartwarming note.
The setting was unlikely: a super crowded book fair at the super crowded booth of Hiyas of OMF LIT. People were milling around. Microphones from various booths blared. Voices and footsteps clashed in asynchronous tunes. Amidst the chaos, Amiya and her parents (they flew in from Mindanao just to visit the book fair) gave me this purple treasure, then placed on the table a pile of my books they wanted me to sign.
Purple!
Every shade of this color was my late mom’s favorite. And instantly, I remembered my very first book fair, when mom sat with me waiting for anyone who might make me sign a book or two. She was with me through my first-book anxiety.
Amiya made me leave that agony by asking questions about my ideas. We had an adult conversation about writing and reading. She knew details, metaphors, and symbolisms for someone so young.
The purple wallet is now very much lived-in. It is beautiful (my phone photos don't do it justice), but it is no longer a spotless showpiece; it is actively occupied by the cards I often use and the cash I keep for emergency—signs of my simple daily living.
Gifts, such as this, remind me of the verse I live by as an author, because without the grace of writing, I would never be behind a table signing a book or two.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17 (NIV)
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