Cup of Comfort

I discovered that nothing soothes me more than a cup of warm milk, brought to life with a couple teaspoons of good quality honey. Just like the old days. Aaaah! The comforting warmth of the milk as it fills the emptiness of my mouth and my heart on long sleepless nights. The strong sweetness of the honey, so strong it almost feels as if the clock has stopped, yet so gentle and numbing that forces my eyes shut in ecstasy. It is a photograph that captures the stillness of the moment. The sip that drains all my worries and sorrows, the endless train of horrible thoughts that keep me up all night even though my head is screaming for my pillow. It cleanses my mind. Yea, it seems quirky having all this admiration for a cup of milk! But it was this cup of milk that gently rocked me to sleep during my childhood. No lullaby, no story, no stroking, and no bath could work its magic on me like this cup of milk with a hint of honey. Not sugar. Honey. Not juice. Milk. Warm --not too hot, not cold at all-- Just warm enough to stay warm until I reach the bottom of it. The bottom I never seemed to reach since I was always falling asleep halfway through the cup! Which makes me wonder..why didn't my mom just make me a half cup to begin with? Oh well, maybe she did! Everything seemed big and tall back then! : )

The comfort I get out of a mug of warm milk is like the comfort I get out of a friend's hug when I'm down, or the safety I feel when my dad or brother put their arm around my shoulder to protect me from any harm..or hold my hand as we cross the street even though I try to convince them that I am 20 and I've been crossing the death streets of Egypt for the past four years! It is the same comfort I feel when my mom tells me "I Love You" for no apparent reason. Most of all, it is the few moments that I can have that teleport me back to when I was a child. A little girl who always saw the best in people and helped everyone despite her parents' warning about talking to strangers. The little girl who smiled at anyone if their eyes met. The girl who feared nothing, knew nothing, and hated nothing. That little girl will always be inside me to stroke my heart and assure me that I was once what I now crave to become again. Fearless, soft, and never letting anyone step on her toes.

This, my friends, is my cup of comfort.

Goodnight now. I have had my milk.