The only thing I remember being directly for me was the box of cookies that the ladies of the church sent me while I was at school. Sure they sent them to everyone, but they remembered me, and they didn’t have to. I appreciated it, and the cookies were good. It felt good to know I was remembered. It wasn’t incredibly meaningful, but it was an act of kindness in Christ’s name. I hadn’t told them I was lonely, and actually I wasn’t lonely. I was quite happy being away from home, but they meant well,