“The truly wide taste in reading is that which enables a man to find something for his needs on the sixpenny tray outside any secondhand bookshop. The truly wide taste in humanity will similarly find something to appreciate in the cross-section of humanity whom one has to meet every day. In my experience it is Affection that creates this taste, teaching us first to notice, then to endure, then to smile at, then to enjoy, and finally to appreciate, the people who ‘happen to be there.’ Made for us? Thank God, no. They are themselves, odder than you could have believed and worth far more than we guessed.” The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis
It would be so much easier. Easier if you were made for me. I’d take up my pen and paper, sketch out in swerving lines and unproportioned shapes what I think you should be like. You’d say what I needed, hold me when I wanted. A softening there, a touch of color here, everything that would equal good for me. But then the original picture would be lost. The design would be broken and twisted, a piece of art labeled modern to try to make it what it’s not. Mona Lisa would be concealed beneath my scribbles, distorted by my lopsided butterflies and trees. You’re precious the way you are and just because I don’t always understand means nothing but a flaw in me. And slowly, with uncertain steps, I’m learning to see each individual hue, each shade. I behold the shapes and lines, glimpse the hints of greatness in every corner. One day, I’ll see the whole, but the whole made up of parts: people, experiences, regrets and dreams. Then it will take me by surprise and all of a sudden I’ll be left blinking in the light, realizing, “You’re beautiful.”
