Tribute

I have a friend, who was so unserving to prevent me from enhancing my serving heart, by plundering my backpack and carried it for hours under the torrid sun in Hong Kong.

I have a friend, who is so critical to comment me as "high maintenance" and embarrasses my self-esteem, by washing my dishes and coffee mug every time when we have dinner together.

I have a friend, who is so bad at hiding her loving and serving heart under her sassy veil, by how much she teaches me on not to condemn myself, and by how selflessly she has poured out for this friendship.

I have a friend, who contributed to change my second love language from words of affirmation to acts of service, by her overwhelming willingness to support, to pray for and to rescue me in a heavily rainy night, and in my distress; and to entertain me by sassy texts during French classes.

I have a friend, who demanded her tribute to be written in Shakespearen or Greek tragedy style, yet I know she's smiling while reading this piece of broken writing. For in countless times she told me how blessed she felt about this friendship, despite I am as weird as my writing.

I have a friend, who always tries to beat me in humility, by telling me "Chris, stop thanking me! This is my honour and this is why I am here," whenever I try to thank her serving heart.

I have a friend, who made an adult hangout in Hong Kong look like a primary school field trip, by her childlike face and heart; and whom I always mock as authoritative on my lips, yet savor as a precious gift from God in my heart.