The Quiet Kindness of a True Friend

There are moments in life when someone's gesture humbles you to silence. Not because of how grand it is, but because of the purity behind it.

Today, my dear friend Yuen Kheng reminded me what true generosity looks like. She bought 15 copies of The Quiet Assistant - my book - not out of obligation, not to impress, but purely from her heart. This is someone who earns a modest living, who could have easily said, "I wish I could help." But instead, she did.

When I opened her message, I could feel every word vibrating with sincerity:

"I read your book. It is so touching of how much you went through and you overcome... You are such a strong woman and never give up."

Her message went on -- not polished or perfect in grammar, but perfect in truth. She spoke of learning from me, of admiring how I handled life's hardest tests, of seeing beauty even in my failures. And in her words, I saw her own quiet, incredible light.

The world often measures value in titles, salaries, and influence. I've learned recently that many, despite their wealth or authority, can look past your humanity. But then someone like Yuen Kheng comes along, and everything shifts. Her gesture -- fifteen books, her heartfelt blessing, her praying for my health -- carries more meaning than any corporate acknowledgement ever could.

It's easy to be kind when it costs nothing. It's rare to be kind when it does. And that's exactly who Yuen Kheng is -- a quiet giver, a mirror of compassion, a reminder that love doesn't count dollars, it counts sincerity.

So tonight, I bow deeply in gratitude.

To Yuen Kheng, for seeing me.

To friends who gave from what little they had.

To the quiet ones who lift others when on one's watching.