Park bench was deserted as I sat down... I felt dissapointed with life.The world was intent on draging me down and I had every right to frown. The day wasn't going the way I planned, and if that wasn't enough to ruin my day, a young boy out of breathe approched me, all tired from playing. He stood beside me, with great excitement and said "look what I found!".In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight, it's petals were wilting from not enough rain or too little light. I wanted him yo tale his dead flower and ho away. I faked a small smile and then turned my head.
But... instead of leaving he sat next to me. He placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise,"it smells pretty and it's beautiful, too. That's why I picked it;here, for you."Beautiful? this weed before me was dying it wasn't vibrant with color or life. I didn't wanted to accept it, but he might leave so, I reached for the flower, and replied annoyingly "oh, just what I needed."
But...instead of him placing the flower in my hand, he held it in air. It was then I noticed for the very first time, This overly positive boy couldn't see:He was Blind.
I was shocked, tears started running like rain as I then graciously thanked him for picking the very best one. "You are very welcome," he smiled and then ran off to play.He was completely unaware of the impact he had on my day. I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying girl sulking on bench. Perhaps from his heart he'd been blessed with true sight.
It was then, finally through the eyes of a blind child that I could see the problem was not with the world, the problem was with me.And for all those times I myself had been blind. At that moment, I vowed to see the beauty in life. To be grateful for my life and appreciate every second that's mine.I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance. It was beautiful. Then, I sat and watched that young boy,off in distance, picking another wilted flower and approach an unsuspecting old man. He was about to change another life...
YOU ARE READING
Words Unspoken
PoetryThere is a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street, and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. Open your hands, if you want to be...