I am who I am I have earned the right To be just that My life experiences have molded me And created all that I am My thoughts, opinions and feelings Are valid and I owe no defence of them I do not need to hide in the shadow Of someone else Just to have some validation Being validated does not depend On another’s view of me … But on my own I am strong… I can withstand And I am not sorry for this It is my heart that decides Who and how we love When I can forgive And when I can forget I am worthy of my life And living it as myself I would like to share myself With you … if you can accept Me as I am And if not I offer no apologies
You must learn that you cannot be loved by all people. You can be the finest apple in the world, Ripe, juicy, sweet, succulent, and offer yourself to all, But you must remember that there are people who do not like apples. You must understand that if you are the finest apple, And someone you love does not like apples, You have the choice of becoming a banana. But you must be warned, that if you choose to become a banana, You will be a second rate banana, But you can always be the finest apple. You must also realise that if you choose To be a second rate banana, There will always be people who don’t like bananas. Furthermore, you can spend your life trying To become the best banana, Which is impossible if you are an apple. Or you can seek again and be the finest apple.
There were once two men, both seriously ill, in the same small room of a great hospital. Quite a small room, it had one window looking out on the world. One of the men, as part of his treatment, was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.
Every afternoon when the man next to the window was propped up for his hour, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside. The window apparently overlooked a park where there was a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans swam on the water and children came to throw them bread while they sailed their toy boats. Young lovers walked hand in hand beneath the grand old trees and there were flowers of every color of the rainbow. There were stretches of grass where softball games were being played. At the back, behind the fringe of trees, was a fine view of the city skyline.
The man on his back would listen to the other man describe all of this, enjoying every minute of it. He heard how a child nearly fell into the lake, and how beautiful the girls were in their summer dresses. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on his back would listen as he closed his eyes and imagined the picturesque scene.
Then one fine afternoon, the thought struck him, “Why should the man next to the window have all the pleasure of seeing what was going on? Why shouldn’t he get the chance? He felt ashamed, but the more he tried not to think like that, the worse he wanted a change. He’d do anything!
One night as he stared at the ceiling, the other man suddenly woke up, coughing and choking, his hands groping for the button that would bring the nurse running. But the man watched without moving … even when the sound of breathing stopped. In the morning, the nurse found the other man dead, and quietly took his body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be switched to the bed next to the window. So they moved him, tucked him in, and made him quite comfortable. The minute they left, he propped himself up on one elbow, painfully and laboriously, and took his first look at the world outside.
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little butterfly who lived in a garden. He lived all by himself and had many flowers to visit each day. He took much pride in his flowers and made sure that each was looked after. He felt he was their guardian and fussed and worried over them. When evening came, he would pick out a very large leaf and tuck himself in underneath it.. When it rained, it was very hard to keep dry. He had to find a very strong leaf that wouldn’t bend when it got wet. Sometimes his wings would get wet and stick together.
When morning came, he would flit here and there and always started at the same end of the garden. He would select the part of the garden that was the farthest from the house. First the lilies, then the roses, and all the flowers in between. Usually, when he finished that part of the garden, he always had a visitor. Sometimes, he was glad so he could rest beneath a leaf or shelter himself from the sun.
He recognized the visitor, as she always wore a hat. He could not really see her face, but he knew she loved the garden. She would spend an hour or two pulling up the many weeds; checking each row of flowers to see if they needed any special care. Once in a while, he would see her glance his way and he would pull his wings up tighter.
He wished sometimes she wouldn’t stay so long. There was much-needed work to be done. When she turned her back, he would take a chance and fly out to visit a few flowers. There were some he really loved. When she turned his way, he would quickly settle underneath a leaf again.
One day as he was flitting from flower to flower, it became very dark. The wind became so strong he could hardly stay in the air. He fell to the ground just as it began to rain and he crawled under a leaf. His wings became very wet and were very heavy. He stayed there all that night, hoping by morning his wings would be dry.
When morning came he didn’t come out as early as he usually did. He was tired from the night and being tilted on his side by the wetness, had exhausted him. As midmorning approached, he began to think of the flowers and knew he had to try to fly. His flowers needed him to take care of them! He slowly lifted his wings and moved them back and forth for a moment. When he felt he was ready, he spread them and flew up to a flower.
As he sat there, still moving his wings, he noticed the visitor. She was already in the garden and was much closer than usual. She was busy hammering a long pole into the ground and didn’t seem to see him. Feeling unnoticed, he sat there and watched. Soon, she reached down and picked something up from the ground. It was very beautiful; a long box with pretty sunflowers and leaves painted on it. It had a small roof made of shingles. As he watched her hang the box on the pole, he noticed three small little slits in the side of it. All of a sudden he knew what it was! He had seen them in other gardens where his butterfly friends lived! He had been so envious when night drew near and his friends would disappear into the small openings. A butterfly house! He was to have a butterfly house!
After the box was hung, the visitor picked up her tools and turned to go. Just before leaving, she paused a moment, then glanced back at him and smiled.
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