I am still reeling.
Since its arrival, a day doesn't go by that I don't open my box that's filled to brimming with treasure. I touch the pieces, and I imagine it's how King Midas must have felt, only my touch gives me joy, although, once in a while it doesn't seem real--this proof that someone who has never met me has given me so much of the very things I like: maps, paper, words strung together like jewels, colors upon colors, and Egypt! Glorious Ancient Egypt was once my home. I have this love affair with the old places that I recall. How Misty knew/knows so much about me, leaves me guessing. Such a blessing! LOL! I see raised eye brows. It's okay. You are so entitled, as am I. I believe what I believe. Believe means to be, and to live. Nice, huh? As nice as The Pen Thief, who steals my heart with her goodness and gentle spirit.
"Thank you" is the best I can do now. But it comes from the most basic parts of me. So, Thank you, my dear, thoughtful, considerate, little friend. You are a blessing. Not because you give me material treasures, but because of who you are. Your treasures give me great pleasure. But, how could you give me your beautiful scarf?!? I love it! You make me cry.
I wish I were a poet! I would compose rhymes and dedicate them to you, out of gratitude. A musician. I would write an opera, written in the key of "thank-you!" There I go again. Thank you is never enough, but it's the ultimate response to such generosity. So, I will hush now, so that I won't blubber.
Love and hugs.
P.S. Can you believe I started learning Italian once? Going to Italy and Egypt were dreams. Once.