The Little Things

We both agreed, on the way home that night in the backseat of the cab, that it has always been the Little Things – the Little Things that meant and mattered the most.
I remembered the Little Things you’d done for me:
No one – not even the salespersons – has ever put on shoes for me – no one but you;
How you had, outrageously but sweetly, when I sulked and complained, offered to buy all Mondays and remove them so Sundays will be twice as long;
I couldn’t remember a time when a hand was offered, so unconditionally and thoughtfully – unasked – when I needed it.
Only three I list here, but many more in my mind – the Little Things you do, magnified infinitely in my heart.