The teapot…

A week after I moved into the bedsit which was the only place that I could afford, once I’d left my husband, the smiling postman rang the doorbell, handed me a rather light cube of cardboard and said, “Somebody’s sent you a present!  How lovely.”  Once I’d signed for it, I picked up a pair of scissors (it had been well wrapped in brown packing tape) and set to.  Inside, in a flurry of polystyrene curls, nestled The Teapot and, with it, a small note card upon which my oldest friend had written the words that you see on the header, above.

This was four weeks after leaving.  I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  I promised myself, then, that her generosity of spirit would never be forgotten.  Those words have supported me through some of my darkest times and I hope that they will support you, too.

Take care, lovely ladies.

Yours, The Tea Drinker. x   ©

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