teainbloomchicken soup… chicken… soup… perhaps i was born to love this little bowl of warmth for the rest of my life :) there is something so tender about the way a homemade soup can make the world feel softer, how a spoonful of it carries the kind of love that words could never quite describe. thank you, Mom, for every bowl you’ve made for me, for every time you’ve warmed my heart when my body felt unwell, and for every little moment of comfort, especially when it’s time to break my fast. i think some of the most beautiful things in life are the simplest ones, like coming home to a bowl of chicken soup made by the hands that have loved you all your life. perhaps this is what happiness tastes like, perhaps this is what home feels like. i could eat it every single day and never grow tired of it, because how could i ever grow tired of something that feels so much like being loved?
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