<p>Advent is meant to be a season of hope, peace, joy, and love. Yet, in recent times, these themes often feel overshadowed by commercialisation—shopping sprees, plum cakes, wines, and festive dresses taking centre stage while the deeper purpose fades into the background.</p>.<p>This year, however, a simple fruitcake became an unlikely symbol of grace. My wife, a culinary expert, happened to receive a tin of hot cakes from Kerala last year, which she took out from her hidden stash. On tasting it, she rated it 5/5—the best fruitcake in recent memory. “The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” we thought, and shared the discovery with my sister, who lives in Kochi.</p>.<p>My sister, a retired teacher, has a new neighbour — a small family consisting of a couple, their daughter and her grandmother. The little girl is in a playschool and travels by the school bus every day. Jumping from the bus into the hands of her grandmother has been a daily delight for her.</p>.<p>However, on that day, she was crying and refusing to come out of the bus. It was learnt that the child had not received her Christmas gift from the teacher. The mother tried pacifying her, but it did not work. </p>.<p>It was a sheer coincidence that my sister had wanted to give that child a small Christmas gift. However, she had not been able to do so until then and was wondering how to send it. To her surprise, she happened to see the child’s father returning from work. My sister hurriedly went out of her house carrying a small bag, stopped him abruptly and said, “Sir! This is a small gift for your daughter.” He was taken aback by the gesture and went home, only to see his daughter still crying. As soon as the child received the gift, the crying stopped and the little one began jumping around.</p>.<p>A little later, there was a knock at my sister’s door. She saw the child, mother and grandmother. She invited them in, and before sitting down, the child extended a carry bag while the mother said, “A small Christmas gift for you.”</p>.<p>The bag contained a tin of hotcake. It was a complete surprise for my sister, for she had never expected anything in return for the empathy she had shown. What a coincidence, all the way!</p>.<p>It is perhaps difficult for many of us to understand the dynamics of empathy; often, it is substituted by sympathy. Such empathetic behaviour could transform the world into “God’s Own Country” – a world full of peace, love and joy.</p>
<p>Advent is meant to be a season of hope, peace, joy, and love. Yet, in recent times, these themes often feel overshadowed by commercialisation—shopping sprees, plum cakes, wines, and festive dresses taking centre stage while the deeper purpose fades into the background.</p>.<p>This year, however, a simple fruitcake became an unlikely symbol of grace. My wife, a culinary expert, happened to receive a tin of hot cakes from Kerala last year, which she took out from her hidden stash. On tasting it, she rated it 5/5—the best fruitcake in recent memory. “The proof of the pudding is in the eating,” we thought, and shared the discovery with my sister, who lives in Kochi.</p>.<p>My sister, a retired teacher, has a new neighbour — a small family consisting of a couple, their daughter and her grandmother. The little girl is in a playschool and travels by the school bus every day. Jumping from the bus into the hands of her grandmother has been a daily delight for her.</p>.<p>However, on that day, she was crying and refusing to come out of the bus. It was learnt that the child had not received her Christmas gift from the teacher. The mother tried pacifying her, but it did not work. </p>.<p>It was a sheer coincidence that my sister had wanted to give that child a small Christmas gift. However, she had not been able to do so until then and was wondering how to send it. To her surprise, she happened to see the child’s father returning from work. My sister hurriedly went out of her house carrying a small bag, stopped him abruptly and said, “Sir! This is a small gift for your daughter.” He was taken aback by the gesture and went home, only to see his daughter still crying. As soon as the child received the gift, the crying stopped and the little one began jumping around.</p>.<p>A little later, there was a knock at my sister’s door. She saw the child, mother and grandmother. She invited them in, and before sitting down, the child extended a carry bag while the mother said, “A small Christmas gift for you.”</p>.<p>The bag contained a tin of hotcake. It was a complete surprise for my sister, for she had never expected anything in return for the empathy she had shown. What a coincidence, all the way!</p>.<p>It is perhaps difficult for many of us to understand the dynamics of empathy; often, it is substituted by sympathy. Such empathetic behaviour could transform the world into “God’s Own Country” – a world full of peace, love and joy.</p>
