The first things one notices when one first meets Myra is her cold hard stare and unrelenting pursuit of something better. Her deep penetrating eyes seem to see right through you, and find you lacking. Haughty, that’s what she seemed.
I met Myra on the first day of class. She was standing by the window, looking out onto the ongoing traffic on the street below, her petite frame demonstrating such aloof-ness. Her dark brown hair peppered with white was tied with a tiny bow pulling her hair away from her resolute face. I still don’t know why, but I had stopped next to her, and attempted to make small talk. On my greeting, Myra had turned to me with what I took as a look of disdain, as if to say, ‘is that all you could manage?’ I nevertheless persevered, and through some more inane comments on my part, Myra thawed. I have been told since that she had seen the loneliness in my soul and in that moment decided to be a friend. Anyway, over cups of coffee for me and tea for Myra, our conversations continued throughout that holiday and a friendship is cemented.
Myra lived in a little country cottage with a garden filled with colours and texture, and self-made sculptures. The colour palette is a testament to her vivacious nature. Her independence is unmistakable, always going here, there and everywhere, with or without her companion, Bo – self-assured, confident and knowledgeable. Bo is a dog which Myra had adopted when she found it wandering the streets alone, or perhaps it has adopted her. Regardless, the pair is almost inseparable.
As with everything, Myra attacks her days with purpose and military precision, from minding her garden to caring for Bo, from cooking nutritious meals to looking after her cozy welcoming cottage. Yet, this efficiency no-nonsense attitude belies a gentle and caring nature, which Myra boards up at best she could unless she is ready. The way in which she tends to her garden and Bo, with such loving kindness, is evidence of her generous soul. Yet she denies them all.
Nevertheless, and despite her denials, Myra has been there for me in troubled times, when my life had seemed unbearable. I am glad she chose me to be friend, although I come to realise that on that first day, she had been lonely too. Perhaps our friendship is no coincidence but divine intervention.