When I was seven, we lived in Argentina. My parents were missionaries and traveled frequently, sometimes for what felt like weeks at a time. We would stay behind with our nanny, and I missed them every time they left.
But here is what I remember most. When they came back, they always brought a Kinder Surprise. One for each of us. That small chocolate egg, milk chocolate on the outside and white chocolate on the inside, was something we looked forward to. The real thrill was the tiny toy surprise hidden inside. We would trade them with each other, negotiate, and occasionally feel heartbroken when yours turned out to be a tiny molded figurine of a person. It was the one nobody wanted.
If they had been on an overseas trip, they would bring back airplane condiment packets. Jam. Honey. Tiny cheeses. Their miniature size delighted me in a way I still cannot fully explain. They never brought anything big. Just a small thing that said: I thought about you while I was away.
What I understand now, looking back, is that the gift was never really the chocolate or the jam packet. It was the act of being held in someone's thoughts while they were somewhere else entirely. Of knowing that in the middle of their journey, you crossed their mind. That is what stayed with me, the feeling of being remembered.
What has made me feel seen over the course of my life is almost always something small. A text that said this reminds me of you. A customer who said I wear your bag everyday. A tiny jam packet from a breakfast bar in a hotel room somewhere far away.
The small things are not small at all. They are the whole thing, just in a different size.
As if embedded in my cells, I do the same for my children. Whenever I stay at a hotel, I bring home whatever is at the breakfast bar. A little packet of Nutella. Travel-sized jelly. I watch their eyes light up the same way mine once did.
Tomorrow when the boys wake up, I will greet them with my little hotel treats and tell them how much I missed them.
With love,
Maria
This weekend's breakfast bar haul. Small things that say: I thought about you.