After finding out that I rushed out of the house to get to my 11am class for a cancelled one, I sat on one of the archs around the edges of the Quad, the most beautiful building on my campus, in which two of my classes are held. I sat there reading the book I haven't been able to put down since I bought it from the weekend market at Kings Cross. I'd take breaks from my reading every so often to absorb the beauty that rested comfortably in the lawns of the quad - the perfectly trimmed grass, the shade provided by the tree behind me, the intricate details of the sandstone buildings, and a few tourists and the awe that sparkled in their eyes as they took turns posing and taking pictures.

I then realised that the simplicity of this moment was something I wanted to remember for as long as I possibly can (I need to be realistic after all -- I have a memory that involuntarily chooses what to retain). I waited for the girl in front of me to finish her phone conversation. She had been sitting there reading a Chinese beauty magazine longer than I have, with her white wedged sandals neatly placed infront of her stretched-out legs. I asked her if she could take my picture, and she gladly reached forward to take my camera. Then I noticed that she only had three fingers on her right hand, some of which deformed, and her right big toe was missing. Her right big toe, which is the same toe that I've been agonizing over the past two years doesn't even exist. I smiled at the camera, thanked her, and continued reading my book. As I walked to my next class, I looked at my right big toe, which I've done a poor job of bandaging up this morning. I thought how petty my complaints have been, and how it must be for her... But then again she was wearing white wedged sandals -- something even I can't do for a long time!

Nevertheless, the past events of the week: girl who took my picture, my blind classmate and his dog, and the children in southern Luzon -- all have made me realise that the simplicity of life doesn't exist in how simple we make our lives, but in how we use this simplicity to the best of our abilities. That we live our lives ready to lend a helping hand, willing to know the marginalised, and that we pray, for the unbelievable, the oppressed, the seemingly hopeless.