Conversations over Coffee

Conversations with the little things

The silence brushed against her cheek as she walked through the empty house. A softness had settled in the air, gently caressing her face as she moved from room to room.

Her outstretched hand lingered, gliding across the surfaces as she walked past them. Kisses from the sun streamed through the window and warmed her neck. The wind toyed with the curtains. In these stolen moments she was reminded how important the little things were in her life.

The noise and chaos of her life often drowned the little things. Their delicate existence swallowed whole in the cacophony that screams for her attention. A hustle and bustle she often feels she has no control over.


She was nothing without the little things. Each one an intricate and precious part of what made her whole. They often took her by surprise, when they rose above the noise and sang to be heard. The sweet melody distinct as it danced through the air, the room, her heart.

An unexpected hand written note from an online friend, packed in neatly with a delivery she ordered.

Mum stopping by with a bowl of fresh cut strawberries, or a new plant she thought you would love.

A sweet comment left on a two-year-old blog post, a reminder that her words matter.

The beep of a text message, months out of the blue.

A post card arriving in the mail, weeks after hubby was already home. No great long message, just three words. Enough to join the collection of little things.

We are merely a collection of little things. Tiny little pieces together that make us whole. Moments, trinkets, memories in photographs we will treasure forever. Precious collections of the life we live and the life we will leave behind.

I have everything because of the little things. I imagine them to be my most prized collection. Apothecary jars lined up in a row, filled with one little thing after another. Each a reminder of what matters most.


Never get lost in the big things, the things with the loudest of voices or the chaotic of bangs. Instead keep finding yourself in the little things. Use them as a map to find your way back home.

As she continued to walk through the house the silence began to shift as she moved from room to room. The little things sang. Their chorus lifted from the tabletops, the closed drawers, the tucked away secret places, filling the air.

If we close our ears and shut our eyes we can all hear their symphony.

Is your life a collection of little things?


Conversations over Coffee returns Tuesday July 26, 2016
Conversations with Disappointment ~ everyone is welcome xx


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