Packages from home.

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Well, ok, one of my homes. A friend recently sent me a book (above) that she had written and that had been published, which made me laugh so hard (the book made me laugh, not the fact that she was published). She also sent another book she thought I would enjoy. It reminded me of all the times my dear friends took the time and effort to send me things from home– a Melburnian friend once sent a book by a Melbourne author to my apartment in Germany because she knew I had been missing Melbourne; another tried to sneak a mooncake in the post from Singapore to Melbourne; a group of friends sent a porcelain mug for my birthday…

I’m grateful for the countless times I’ve received unexpected packages from home, especially at the lonely end of a cold winter’s day at work or classes far from my friends and original family, or the melange of places that I call “home”. Because if home is where the heart is, then home, for me, is where my friends and family are.

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Send me sunshine, light and love! :) Constructive criticism is also welcome.

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