I returned to my dwelling this evening, my modern carriage having fought for two long hours through a river of steel and fire. The great city of Beirut, in its frantic preparations for Christmas, had ensnared its own streets in a web of traffic. My hunger was a sharp and insistent companion, and I yearned for the comfort of a hot meal in this wintry weather. Upon entering, a cold reality greeted me. The main gas cylinder, the very source of my kitchen’s fire, was empty. My heart sank, for the prospect of waiting another hour for a replacement, while my hunger grew, was a bleak one indeed. But then, my eyes fell upon a steadfast ally. My Valor kerosene stove, that 55 bastion of reliability, stood ready for service. It was no dusty relic, but a well-kept friend. I summoned its flame, a confident blaze that promised a swift end to my hunger. This dependable stove saved the situation, allowing me to cook my potatoes and eggs meal without the long, hungry wait for the delivery. And so, I share this tale as a salute to the enduring power of good, simple tools. A tribute, for the love of stoves! Cheeeers!
Migwar, Loved the story, and the happy ending! YAY!! May you and yours enjoy a peaceful, happy, and very healthy Christmas, filled with God's Blessings! - Merry Christmas, Doc and Sweet Bride
