Thursday, May 22, 2014

Look at me, not my trial.

About a year after the accident, I began to feel really happy again.
I realized that I still loved chocolate cake; 
I still loved my husbands sexiness, Anthropologie, and more,
than anything, my children.  And I noticed that my husband still looked at me
the same way he had when I was his Snow White.
One evening he came into our room and sang me a lullaby.
(He often did this when I was really in pain and couldn't sleep)
I looked into his eyes as he sang, 
and I knew that nothing, NOTHING could break us up.
Something else happened. I began seeing people for who they really are.
I began seeing their soul.  The greatest thing that we can do as
a human race is to see each other the way God sees us: beautiful.
No matter if people have a disease, a handicap, or a burned face, their eyes
say something and most of the time they are saying:
"Look at me, not my trial."
 I wrote that above snippet (great word) and a full article in October of 2011
I still generally feel the same way now as I did when I wrote the article.
Maybe more confident, yes definitely more confident.
I was searching through Pineterst a few days ago and
noticed that someone "pinned" that little piece.
I am glad those thoughts made someone happy.