crying angel

A young boy runs with reckless abandonment through the rain. His smile shines with light the dark clouds can’t hide. He is free, and he knows it.

A beautiful woman wanders through the pouring rain. From the outside you’ll be forgiven to think there is peace in her heart. The rain hides her tears. The thunder mimics her pain. She is breaking with every step she takes. Every breath weakens her tormented soul evermore. Her body lingers in the wind like an old tree that died years ago.

A few precious moments later, the little boy runs back to his mother. His knees are covered in blood… but he can’t stop smiling. Before his mother can say anything, he bursts out “Mommy, mommy I saw an angel!”

“She was so beautiful. I ran too fast and fell down. But she helped me up and her smile took away all my pain. I wasn’t even afraid when I saw the blood. She gave me a hug and it felt like the sun was shining on me. Then she said that God will always send an angel to pick me up when I fall.” With wide eyes the boy stares at his mother “Mommy, what do I need to do to be an angel like her?”

_________________

You may feel you are terribly weak, and perhaps you are. But believe me when I say you can still mean the world to someone. You can still change the course of someone’s life forever! You don’t have to get up from the ground to make a difference… to mean something. Believe me… your life means something amazing!

don’t look at me

You think you understand, but you have no idea. You think you know me, but you never can. The pain I bleed won’t stain your hands. If you see a dim flickering light shining out of me, just look away, you’re not supposed to see. But take heart... it will fade eventually.

Please don’t look at me.

With black tar of despair and bricks of pain, I build a wall to cover my shame. The light that was, will be no more… all in the hope of surviving the world once more. My strength, my pride and yes my pain will never again see the light of day. What I was and what I should be will be locked away for all eternity.

Just don’t look at me.

I gather all my misery and wrap it round the wall. Broken glass and razor wire covers the wall now destroying my soul. If you try to help you’ll surely fall. Don’t come closer, I’m not well, I’ll rip you apart… I’ll give you hell! Can’t you see it’s too late for me? Now go away and let me be...

And don't you dare look at me!

all of me

It’s 4:30am, my alarm beeps, but I don't mind. I’m not sleeping anyway. I wash my face and stare in the mirror. It’s back!

The darkness decided to visit me again this morning. It probably came for me while I was sleeping. That explains the nightmares and why my body was covered in sweat. I thought I was strong enough, I thought I could resist it. The truth is, that’s just a lie I tell myself. I like it when the darkness comes. I love it!

Through the mirror I stare into eyes of pain, and I smile. Not out of pleasure, but acknowledgment: “I see you!” I swear I can see it smile back. The darkness has grown rather fond of me. It’s because I give it my all. It devours me with delight. It sucks life out of me like some sadistic vampire feeding on the flesh of a worthy sacrifice. I tilt my head and expose my neck to the darkness. It’s yours. Enjoy.

If I had family or friends, it would devour them through me... or would I devour them... using it? But I don’t, I don’t need friends or family. I have the darkness, and today, it has me. All of me.

Companion

Tonight will be the best night of your life. Unfortunately.

It started when you were 7. You saw scratches on your knees that weren’t there. The next day you fell off your bike and obtained those very scratches. Not too long after that you were watching TV, nothing exciting was on. You started weeping with painful tears. Three days later your dog was run over by a car. When your dad told you the news, you wept those same painful tears.

As time passed you came to understand this ability as a companion. Someone who peeks into your future and allows you to see or feel what awaits you. You’ve grown rather fond of your special companion. Your beautiful blessing! Seven years ago, you learned about tonight. Since then you’ve been eagerly awaiting the best night of your life!

The next morning you wake with a smile… it was better than you thought it could ever be. You can’t wipe the silly grin off your face. Just give it time, it’ll sink in soon. Then your companion shows you what awaits you now... Never again. You’ll never again in your life experience anything like last night. Nothing will even come close. For the past 7 years you didn’t enjoy your life. You’d lived for a day in your future. Now... your life will be miserable, you’ll always think back to the best night of your life. Your companion turned out to be your curse. Your entire life could have been amazing… instead everything that you’ve lived for, was crammed into one day.

_______________

Are you living for the future... are you stuck in the past? Did you create a companion for yourself that's stealing your life?

Little by little

“Please don’t do this!” She begs him, but he doesn’t listen. He never does. His fist smashes into her cheek. Do you feel like a man when you push her around? Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground? She stays on the ground. If she gets up, he’ll just put her down again. She swallows a mouthful of blood. As he walks away she whispers “Louis… how did you turn into this monster?” He stops cold. He heard her whispers. She’s going to regret she said that. He turns around with evil in his eyes and walks over to her body…

*********

In another time and place, an alarms beeps at the crack of dawn. A little boy quickly stops the alarm. He doesn’t want to wake his parents. It’s Mother’s Day and he’s going to attempt to give his parents breakfast in bed. He smiles as he shuffles to the kitchen. He can already see his mother’s smile when he walks in there with a tray filled with goodies. Softly he taps an egg against the side of the pan. His mother does it so easily, but it doesn’t want to break when he does it. He taps a bit harder and the egg starts to crack. He forces his thumbs into the crack and pries it open spilling some on the stove. The next three eggs go a bit easier, but he still has to fish out the bits of egg shell from the pan.

He places some bread in the toaster and turns on the kettle. It’s going better than he expected. He adds some coffee, milk and lots of sugar into two cups. With his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, he picks up the kettle and carefully pours boiling water into the cups. When everything is ready he picks up the tray and walks carefully to his parents’ bedroom. When he pushes the door open his mother greets him with a smile. It’s more beautiful than he pictured it. He walks over with his little chest sticking out and hands her the tray. She smiles, gives him a kiss and whispers “I love you, Louis…”

___________


How did the boy become the man… the monster? Little by little… without him realizing it. We don’t understand the impact our thoughts, actions and words have on us over the years. Little by little we accumulate pieces of who we are. I believe there’s a (potential) monster in each of us screaming to take over. When you shun someone, you might pick up a piece of you. A piece you don’t want.

I believe we all have a (potential) angel inside us. You might see someone who’s a bit down. You don’t know them that well and don’t really want to go talk to them. Do it anyway! It might seem insignificant; but it makes up who you are. It’s a small step on a journey that’ll blow you away.

Make sure you love who you are. Pick up all the right pieces!

Keep knocking

A little boy sits beside his mother’s bed. He holds her hand as she fades away. She gathers the last bit of her strength. “My baby, no matter what happens to you, always remember how special you are.” Slowly she lets go of his hand. She’s gone. The boy’s life fades to darkness...

***

His mother had arranged for him to live with a distant uncle. He’d never met this uncle, but no one else wanted him. In fact, his mother had to plead with the man to take him in. Reluctantly he agreed. Although the boy was only 7 years old, he understood how unwanted he was when he walked into his new home. Sadly, this would never be a home for the boy. As the weeks passed on, the uncle’s contempt for the boy grew stronger. He didn’t hide his feelings. The boy felt guilty each time they had supper. He felt like he was stealing from his uncle. He ate as little as he could, trying to impose as little as possible. He wished he could take care of himself; he didn’t want to be a burden on anyone.

A few months after his mother’s death, a lady came to visit. She was there to take him away. His uncle didn’t want him anymore. He went to stay at a place with 17 other children. He was even less wanted there. He was a burden to this world! Everyone just wanted to throw him in the trash, but they had to pretend his life meant something. They had to pretend saving the boy was important.

By the time he reached the tender age of 9 he couldn’t stand it anymore. Each time he looked into their eyes, he felt unloved. They desperately didn’t want him. As darkness fell he slipped out of the house and started running down the street. Through his tears he promised himself to never again be a burden on anyone. He found a spot under a bridge to stay for the night. He thought back to his mother, about what she said before she died. Did she really mean it? Did she just want to make him feel good for the last time in his life? Was he really special? If so, why was she the only one who saw it? Was there anyone else in this world who would want him? As these thoughts raced through his mind, the little boy’s heart filled with anger. Why did she tell him he was special? Why didn’t she tell him the truth?

***

A few days later and the little boy’s stomach shoots with hunger pains. He desperately wants something to eat, but he doesn’t want to impose on anyone. He doesn’t want to look into someone’s eyes again and see what a burden he is. He has no choice. Somewhere deep inside him, he wants to believe someone wants him. He needs to believe he can belong somewhere. He walks down the road, spots a house that looks homely, and knocks on the door.

A week later the boy’s frail body is found under the bridge, starved to death.


_______________________


If the boy knocked on your door, would the story have ended differently? Do we make people feel wanted? Do we make people feel like they belong somewhere? Do we make people feel loved and appreciated?

If you feel like that little boy today, please don’t stop knocking. There is a place where you belong. You are special! I will open if you knock.

Alex

You are one of the best photographers in the world. Hiding in a canopy you take pictures of a lioness giving birth. Your pictures capture the utter beauty and grace of this moment. You can’t help forming an attachment to the lioness and her new cub. A few days later the malnourished mother tries to hunt. She’s exhausted, but it she doesn’t eat, her little cub will die. She chases after a zebra. As she jumps to attack the zebra, it kicks in defence. Staring through your lens, you capture a magnificently painful moment in time.

You want to leave. You want to get away from the tragedy. But you know the story isn’t complete until the cub dies. Now you have to go back to the little defenceless cub, watch it die without its mother… and take pictures.

The little cub rolls around in the dust, crying from hunger and loneliness. Its little lungs pierce the darkness and your heart. It’s crying to its mother. Your heart grows weaker still as you watch the cub drift away in agony. You take your last photo and drive away. You don’t want to be here when it dies.

You’re rolling around in your bed. Your photographs haunt you. You can almost hear its little cry for help. It’s probably dead by now, but it might still be crying. You jump up, grab some milk and drive off. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you can’t sit and do nothing. It’s barely alive when you get there. You manage to get some milk into its dry throat.

Three days later the little cub plays with your shoe laces. You can’t help but smile, and steal a few photos for your private collection. You have to give the cub away. It’s a wild animal; you can’t take care of it. When it grows up, you won’t be able to control it. But for now, you just want to enjoy playing with it.

A friend of yours is a vet, so you take little Alex to get inoculated. He warns you sternly to give the cub away, but you can’t. You won’t. Little Alex will be your little secret…

Since you took her in until the day she was shot, people warned you to give her away. But you held on too tightly. You saw the signs, but you couldn’t let go. When she was two years old she ripped your sofa to shreds and growled ferociously at you. You just gave her a huge chunk of meat to calm her down. Your life became terribly difficult, your photography suffered beyond repair. Yet, when Alex behaved, when you held her tight, you felt safe and secure. In the end, she was all that mattered to you. Even while she killed you, you only wanted her.

_____________________


The lion is anger, it’s lust, it’s jealousy and even fear. At first, it might seem innocent, small and harmless. You want to indulge… just a bit. You want to feed it… just a little. But if you feed it too much… it will tear you apart. There might be a time to indulge, to save the cub from dying. But then you must give it away. When it grows up, you won’t be able to control it. Give it to someone who knows how to take care of it.

If you are angry, if you feed that anger too much, it will mature into hatred. If you feed that hatred, it will devour you.

I beg you, don’t allow wild animals into your heart.