I think we leave everyone we meet a little better, or a little worse: our encounters with one another are never empty and heaven forbid we underestimate our influence. We have the power to boost weary spirits and instill hope. In the same way, we can wallop someone's best effort and ruin their day. While some of us are the spiciest of riojas, and others no more than a generic boxed wine of unrealized potential, Michelle is the most playful of champagnes, bubbling and sparkling all over the place.

Michelle is the kind of woman I want to be. She’s strong and brave and loves a good adventure. She laughs easily and often, and seems to have a handle on what it means to live with integrity, gratefully and full on. She’s so fearless in the face of barking kangaroos that she actually barks back. I, however, run for my life. She patiently taught me the art of driving left, and gifted me with the depth of her heart as we talked about everything under the cool Australian sun as we zipped along the Great Ocean Road. She succeeded in expanding my palate to include grilled cheese with vegemite, while I failed in my reciprocal attempt to awaken her inner American with peanut butter and jelly pancakes. I suppose nobody's perfect.

No comments:
Post a Comment