I think we are all intentional with our lives, well, more or less. I try to be intentional, at least when it comes to some areas of life or some relationships. One of these areas is children. I'm probably not doing a very good job but at least I try to make an effort to be present in the lives of those children who are important to me and with whom I have spent more time. I remember having some grown-ups in my life I could look up to when I was a kid and although I can't say they changed my life or anything, it was important for me to know they were there. Or, well, I think they didn't change my life but I guess one can never be too sure when it comes to things like that.

Anyway. My good friend M.'s daughter M. turned eight years old two weeks ago. And she was having a birthday party then and kept asking if auntie Mervi could also come to her birthday. Auntie Mervi couldn't because she was preaching and teaching homiletics on the other side of the country that Sabbath. But when I went to Tartu to preach this past Sabbath, I called my friend and told her I'd come by later and spend a day with her daughter to make up for missing her birthday party in mid April. So I did. I spent the Sabbath evening and the whole of Sunday in their farm and liked it very much.

Their place, a vast farm with cats and dogs, chicken and cows, fields and a garden, their private lake and a sauna house next to it, it's all a bit like a wonderland to a city kid like me. But what more - it's my home. I stopped feeling like a guest there many years ago, and I think they stopped seeing me as a guest just as many years back. But they would still make an effort, the most heart-warming kind of effort when I go there. Papa J. would go and catch some salmon from their lake on Sunday morning because he knows how much I like fish, he would also heat the sauna just for my sake so that I could take a first dip in their lake and sweat in sauna. When I leave, M. would always pack me a whole bag of their own products, eggs, homemade cheese, honey, carrots and jam and what not. And all I need to do is to hang out with little M., listen to her fist attempts of playing the violin, read some stories, and take long walks around the lake with her to make her happy (fortunately she has never been keen on playing with dolls - that I can't do). Yesterday, just before I left, she gave me a little chocolate heart and a bracelet she had made herself which I take is her way of showing her affection and appreciation. When would you come back, she kept asking. I told her I didn't know but that I would make an effort.

And I have a feeling deep down that in the end, these kinds of efforts matter the most in life.

Sabbath evening walk with little M.

The cutest birthday gift I've ever seen.