Olga V. (ESE) - On Sensory Care

Sometimes my doctor tells me, "Why are you constantly running around, fussing over everyone?! Take care of yourself..." And I get chills down my spine. What do you mean, take care of myself? If I do that, I'll definitely "fall ill with all kinds of ailments." Just let me run around someone, and that's how I'll get better.

In my youth, I worked as a waitress at a sanatorium in the city of Yevpatoriya. I was just bursting to go to work. I served ten tables—that’s forty people—and there were children there: yesterday they ordered something—we had a pre-order system—and today they don't want it. The parents ask to exchange it. Is that easy to do?

It’s hard! Because the kitchen gives out everything exactly as ordered. So, I always kept a small chocolate bar in my apron pocket. Why? If the guests asked me to change a dish, I’d run to the kitchen counter, give them the chocolate bar, ask nicely, and they’d exchange it for me. I bought those chocolates with my own money. Oh, I never even thought about the cost. But when I see that I’ve pleased people, everything inside me just sings.

I remember once, some guests arrived late—everything had just been cleared away after dinner, and they were seated at the tables next to mine. Their waitress went to the kitchen to see if there was anything left, but I rushed to my pantry, grabbed some bread, sugar, and tea, and ran to serve them hot tea. I remember how I was practically flying home afterward, and there was so much joy inside me.

<...> Recently, I met an interesting old lady. She lives near our house, and everyone knows she feeds stray dogs. Her husband is a well-off man, so she could just sit at home, but she found a place where she can get incredibly strong energy and feel happy. So, there I am, walking with my own dog, and this elderly lady comes along—she is already in her eighties—and around her is a small pack of six or seven dogs. You should have seen those well-fed, content, peaceful, blissful faces, and tails lowered in gratitude. They walk around her, and you get the feeling that they are bound to her by warm, soulful feelings. They look up at her face from time to time, their eyes literally glowing with fullness and gratitude.

She told me, "I wake up in the morning and feel a ravenous, animal hunger. I know that I am sensing their hunger. How can you sleep through that? Once I feed them, I feel full myself—all the hunger goes away. I don't eat much myself, but when they eat, I feel them filling up with satiety, and it gives me so much energy—I am just happy! As long as my legs can carry me, I will feed them; I can't live without it. This is what keeps me alive."