I'm so sorry for not uploading last week. I don't really have any reason for it. So, as a punishment, you COULD expect another blog post this week. I have not finalized my answer. I'm just saying that I MIGHT upload this week, again. But, until then, ENJOY THIS!
I was angry. Really angry. So, I decided to go there. I went to my backyard and swung like a monkey from a tree to reach the rock. I sat on the rock and looked below at the hut. There were children playing outside the hut. An old lady, her daughter and her three grandchildren lived there.
The daughter was unemployed; she cooked, cleaned, and took care of her children. The children were of ages 5, 4, and 6; they were too young to work. The old lady was their bread-earner. She made a living by cleaning other's houses for them.
As I sat there, tears of anger and sadness flowing down my cheeks, I saw the old lady climbing 'stairs'. They really weren't stairs; they were more like a pile of rocks stacked on top of each other to connect the hut to the higher land. I quickly wiped my tears off my face as I did not want anyone to see me for I am a strong girl. She approached me and I stood up to show my respect to her. She smiled as she said: " I know you were crying, Mabel. There's no need to hide your feelings just because you want to appear bold."
" I was not crying." I lied.
" I don't know about that. But remember, Mabel, you are not worthless.
" Let's compare the two of us: who is prettier? You.
Who is more intelligent? You.
Who has a better heart?"
And before she could say 'you', I interrupted and said "You.'
To you who is reading this: you should remember that you are perfect at being you. Nobody else can handle what you're handling so perfectly well. No one has a heart, mind or face like yours. You are perfect in a different way. Who defines what is perfect anyway?