In Elena’s apartment, there is always an almost strict sense of cleanliness. As an auditor working in the financial district, her life is like the reports she handles, precise, orderly, and error free. However, on this late autumn evening, when she found the pair of plush yak ornaments in the corner of a soon to close grocery store, something that had been suppressed for a long time quietly woke up.
They are not eye-catching, and can even be said to be somewhat clumsy. A person wearing light brown long hair, with a wreath of sunflowers and autumn leaves woven around their head; The other one is dark brown, wearing a plaid hat and a small bow tied around its neck. Their eyes are simple embroidery, and there is always a gentle and slightly cute smile at the corners of their mouths. The shop owner said that this is a decoration prepared for Thanksgiving, symbolizing harvest and gratitude. Elena inexplicably bought them and placed them on her spotless walnut desk.
At first, they were just two quiet objects. Elena occasionally looks up to catch a glimpse of them while working late at night. The pair of yaks sat quietly like that, as if silently accompanying her. Their fur shone softly under the warm light of the desk lamp, the sunflowers on the wreath seemed to always face the light, and the small hat exuded an old-fashioned gentlemanly demeanor. Elena began to get used to staring at them for a while when she felt tired. They won’t speak, won’t judge, and won’t measure her value with cold numbers and harsh language like her boss.
On a rainy night, Elena had just finished a suffocating meeting. She was accused of wasting too much time on an insignificant detail, even though that detail ultimately avoided a potential compliance risk. She returned home, completely soaked and exhausted. She slumped down in the chair, her gaze once again fixed on the pair of yaks. This time, what she saw were no longer two dolls, but two silent guardians. The autumn atmosphere on them seemed to be able to absorb all her anxiety and unease. She reached out and gently touched the yak wearing a flower wreath. The soft touch from her fingertips was like a warm current, slowly flowing into her cold heart.
Days passed by day by day, but Elena’s life did not undergo earth shattering changes. She still has to face heavy workloads and complex interpersonal relationships. But some things have indeed changed unconsciously. She started putting a small packet of cookies in the drawer of her desk, not for herself, but for a colleague who was also working overtime. She will add an extra sentence ‘Thank you for your patience’ when replying to emails. She even began to pay attention to the color changes of the leaves outside the window, feeling the cool breeze brushing against her cheeks.
She realized that the pair of yak ornaments might not be some magical items. They only remind her in the simplest way of the forgotten, simple, and beautiful things in life. They represent a calm rhythm, a reverence for nature and seasons, a silent companionship and acceptance.
Until one day, when she gazed at them again, a slight realization quietly fell to her heart like autumn leaves: it turned out that true power does not come from impeccable perfection, but from the tenderness that can accommodate fragility and embrace imperfection. She always thought she was striving to become a stronger person, but never thought that perhaps what she needed to learn more was how to become a more complete person. The pair of yaks still sat there quietly, smiling as if saying, ‘Look, this is also good.’.
