John Gray told a story at a Smartmarriage banquet about how men feel when they take a woman to a movie. If she likes it his chest goes out.

"I did that."

The audience laughed, but some of the men shifted uneasily in their chairs. 

It is not unique to males to take credit where credit is not due. 

One of the raffle prizes for the upcoming marriage conference is a quilt. The batting is from a friend who gave me a comforter she no longer needed, which I took apart. The backing is a soft raspberry hand dyed linen, gifted from a woman who was thinning out her copious stash of high quality fabric. The blocks were ufo's (unfinished objects) from someone whose generosity included notions, zippers and buttons. Even the time was a gift, as I was planning on attending a meeting, but when I arrived it had been cancelled because of snow piles. I went home with an unaccounted for ninety minutes and put it together. If anyone asks whether or not I made it, I'm not sure what to say. 

The other day John made omelettes for brunch, as he often does on a Sunday morning. But this time he burned his finger. Badly. All day he carried a cup of water, which he frequently replenished with fresh snow. Yet I had but meager sympathy. I have burned myself in the past. It hurts, I know. But although I said I was sorry for his pain, I wasn't. Not really. 

Feeling empathy for another is in itself a gift, which sometimes appears without any effort on my part. I cannot rightly take credit for it.

Appearances would have me believe that I am the source of my altruism. But if that were the case it would not so often go missing. 

Love, 

Lori