Enjoying the Story
When I look at others, my mind works in an impressively short amount of time to gather information and an opinion. Don’t worry, I’m not judgmental, its human nature and we have all found ourselves doing this. However, the question is, when you catch that first glance, that initial stare down, do you see the soul of a personal, behind the tattoos, or crazy hair? And will you ever see their real “story” when that first impression begins to fade?
This is what I originally thought to believe. A person’s appearance revealed a lot about that individual. His hair is unkempt, her designer clothing had to mean only one thing, he was lazy, and she was a spoiled little rich girl. I could walk down the halls of my school going through this process of gathering information, processing and condensing it into simple stereotypes. Even though I have only fifteen years under my belt, this belief has been altered just a bit.
It has been awhile since I have seen Destiny. Now that I begin to think about it, I can’t even remember when the last time I saw her was. She passed in and out of my life fairly short, maybe I had known her three years at the most. She was no doubt a talented girl, having a voice that could probably melt your heart but beyond that she was the most sincere person I have ever known. She didn’t grow up in an upper-class family, and her mother was a single parent raising her and her sister the best she could. At the young age of eleven I was surprisingly very judgmental, but the odd thing was Destiny never was. At church, a few kids were picked up by the buses in the inner-city parts of town which in my mind translated into slum. She had innate sense ability to look past their shortcomings. For her, each kid was a new opportunity to make a friend. I looked at her with curiosity and wanted so much to be able to achieve that ability to simply accept.
The thing I had initially thought to believe is what I now hope I never truly think. So here it is, what I think are the facts. This I believe, that a soul is measured by more than the materialistic view point of a condescending eye. The true essence of a person cannot be captured in a short glimpse, but in a lifetime of searching and learning. The quality of some one is not illustrated by their physical attributes but in the moments we spend in fascination of their mystery. An overused phrase I find myself quoting is to not judge a book by its cover. Well, I could go even as far as to say, don’t judge what’s inside either. I’ve left my criticism on the table and now believe to simply enjoy the story.
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