It is hard to overstate the joy in simple things.
Look—
we had flour, so I made bread. The entire house smells so good! And soon you'll devour it, and my little labor will burn inside your cells and become part of you.
we had thread, so I fixed your coat. It is not as good as it was new (it will always bear the scars of my inexpert work) but it is better than it was torn, and my little labor will help it keep you warm and dry.
we had so many little tasks to do, lingering around our little part of the world, so I did some of them. A bit of cleaning, a bit of tidying; a cup of coffee to greet you when you wake. Small things, things that you could have done just as well, but now you will not need to and your day will be that small bit easier.
and we had words, so I told a story. It is an imperfect thing, as my stories always are, but I have done my best to fill it with joy and love. Perhaps it will linger in your thoughts. That would be enough.
