Gemotions

The evening was still, the air thick with the scent of jasmine. Inside the small cottage, everything was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. I was sitting on the porch swing, the gentle rocking motion a balm to my spirit. A sense of quiet agreement settled in me, a gentle settling into a comfortable routine.

My husband, David, emerged from the house, a book clutched in his hand. He hesitated for a moment, then, in broken, but enthusiastic, Polish, he said, "Czy… czy chcesz czytać?" He held it out to me. The question, the pronunciation, filled me with a deep, silent appreciation. I took the book with a smile, my heart full. “Tak,” I whispered, "Proszę."