A good friend told me she had a secret. “Psst.  This pandemic is a blessing for me.”

Every morning in this pandemic, I wake up as a better person to thank God for another day.  My feeling of gratitude became boundless and grew every morning, recharged after a dreamy night’s rest.  It is like my heart was bursting with amazing stories of average people I encountered throughout one week, then another and another.  As these stories grew, my memories were filled with multiple chances to see the joy in my life.

I remember a friend from Australia shared how she now enjoyed driving while talking with her daughters now, compared to bustling around before the pandemic.  Subsequently, I enjoyed every moment I was immersed in a conversation with my daughter.  Every time she seeks my attention, I put on hold anything that I was doing so I could enjoy her storytelling.

I remember meeting friends I had lost 41 years ago.  Moreover, they were from across the world in another country.  I rejoiced in our conversation as I reconciled within myself for losing them 41 years ago.

I remember connecting to others in a bible study fellowship.  We went through suffering and loss together and got through hard times together.

I remember giving a gift to my husband where I cleaned the furniture (where I did not normally do so).  This somehow reassured me that there is a possibility in this pandemic that there are spouses grateful for each other.

I remember meeting people along the road who spent their lives always trusting in God’s providence.  They brought great joy in my life, that I have found them and their daily stories of struggle, with trust in Him.

I remember reading about Mother Theresa of Calcutta whose work in India was not to convert Hindus in poverty to Christianity but to bring them dignity and love in dying.  This act of selflessness moved my heart.

I remember learning from Mother Theresa about people criticizing her for her work and that she continued her act of charity to the poor of the poorest.  This brought perseverance to me (in writing).

I remember watching on television a movie when the teenager had terminal cancer and she lived like every day was her last day.

In this pandemic, every day has become the last day for me.  “The pandemic is a blessing for me,” said my friend.

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