I once had a potential tenant—a young man in his 20s—come to see my cozy one-bedroom flat. Everything was in perfect order, and I expected him to be pleased. But as we stood in the hallway, he frowned and asked, “Don’t you have a shoehorn?” I said no, a bit confused. He simply replied, “Then this flat’s no good,” and left. I stood there speechless.

Later, when the building owners decided to sell the flat I was renting, I had to move out. I cleaned every corner, left everything spotless, and handed over the keys. The next morning, my landlady called. My heart sank—I thought she’d found something wrong. But instead, she thanked me for how clean the place was and surprised me with a kind question.

She asked, “How come you’re so wonderful and alone? Let me introduce you to a friend of mine.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It was the last thing I expected after such a stressful move. Life really has a way of catching you off guard—sometimes with frustration, sometimes with unexpected kindness.

I’ve lived in several rentals, met all kinds of landlords—some kind, some odd, and some downright unreasonable. But through it all, I’ve learned that a home isn’t just about walls or rent—it’s about the small human moments that happen within them, even during goodbyes.