Several days ago I came across news that a person I knew has died.

I wouldn't say that we were friends; I'm not even sure if we can call each other acquaintances. We only got to know each other because she lived right across me in freshman year, and my freshman roommate became fast friends with her. Our only communication after that was just a smile and a wave when we walked into each other on campus.

Nevertheless, the news was still shocking and difficult to take. Unlike the last time this happened, I actually exchanged conversation with her. I am Facebook friends with her and, when I sifted through my contacts after a spark of memory, I found that I even had her number, although I don't think I ever used it.

Even though I had almost no contact with her for the past three years, I found myself still trying to make sense of it all, not quite believing what happened, trying not to ask sensitive questions like why and how. Seeing how she made a difference to so many people, though she and I barely touched the surface of each other's worlds.

And then I remembered that I had one significant moment with her in the past, though brief. I thought I ought to put it here, as I don't feel too comfortable sharing such a tiny anecdote in a much more public sphere, where there are people who know her much better and are taking the loss much harder than what I can ever imagine.

*

August 2008. I was miserable and I looked like a red panda. I had forgotten to apply sunscreen while watching a football game, and as a result I was severly sunburnt, from my face all the way down to my arms.

It was the second or third week of staying all alone in Ann Arbor, miles apart from my family and starting university life in a strange place I've never been. If I was able to fight off loneliness and homesickness so far, the sunburn was making it increasingly difficult. It didn't help that I didn't know how to deal with a sunburn either; I never had to deal with anything worse than a tan before.

When ice packs and ointments failed to make any difference, I desperately asked students around me for advice.

It was then that she asked why I wasn't using aloe gel. I looked back at her blankly.
"What's aloe gel?" I asked stupidly.

The fact that I didn't know what it was irked me; it was advertising my status as international student in neon signs. Due to the loneliness, I didn't like American students finding out that I was an international student. The last thing I wanted was feeling even more isolated than I already was, seeing their perceptions switch gear and treat me like the other shy international kids with broken English.

But she didn't judge. She didn't even say "Oh, you never heard of it before?". She simply went back to her room, retrieved her bottle and squeezed a bit out for me to see.
"It's really good for sunburns. I'm sure you can find it in pharmacies, but for now you can use mine," she said kindly as she handed me the bottle. I thanked her and returned to my room.

The aloe gel soothed my burning red skin immediately. I felt like I could finally relax. For about three days I got through the day with her bottle before I went out to buy my own, and I returned her bottle with a small present and a thank you note.

It was merely a small gesture of kindness on her part, but for a lonely and scared foreign student, the kindness was much appreciated. During that short moment, I felt less alone.

*

Thank you, and rest in peace.