Last week I naively announced a quest.

To liberate my house mates citrus and fructose from the confines of their kitchen entombment.

I projected my own inadequate feelings of isolation and failure onto them, and the repercussions were traumatic for them.

They didn't desire an outing.

Or a glamorous adventure. They had so much more on their minds.

They weren't thinking of their own fortune or contentment.

Their concerns were for the well-being of these two precious little fruitlings.

Rēmana and Sitruuna

They had concealed their precious little ones in the seldom used cake tin, a sentimental keepsake, that once contained my grandmothers baked goodies.

When times got tough they found they buried themselves in their make shift home. The protective measures overtime turned unwittingly to an incarceration of sorts.

Living turned to existing.
Existing to surviving.
Surviving now equal to a desperate need for intervention and assistance.

So the week of frivolity was aborted.

Much more pressing issues were at hand.

We invited over some friends and their children.

It wasn't easy at first.
Sometimes letting others in and admitting that things are tough can be very difficult.

But eventually they let down their guard.

It turns out those neighbours had some nice friends.

They seemed to come in by the crate load. Wanting to help in anyway they could.

Their situation isn't necessarily changed.
They are living in the same bowl. With the same issues.

But sometimes helping isn't about fixing things.

Lives can be changed by simply asking someone how they are. Honestly asking, and availing them 5 minutes to answer without the usual obligatory responses.

Similarly.

Citrus and Fructose have gained immensely. Knowing that the world for them does not end at the gated kitchen door helps them face the future with a new perspective.

And with a little more gratitude for the simple things.

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PS This post was created with fruit lovingly delivered by neighbours.