Sunday, 21 September 2014

All over a folded heart.


 
There were simpler days. When joy wasn’t the purchase of that new handbag. When it didn’t matter that you were wearing that same pair of socks for the third day. Those days when searching for tadpoles brought endless hours of bonding. Heads bowed down in yet another laborious art project. Sharing that last piece of pie.

 

But you grow up. You are told that success has its definitions. That pieces of paper signed by certain people made you worth more than others. You start to question “worth” over “value”. Is it really worth my time? Is all that trouble really worth it? Then you start to get ideas over what is “worth it” and what is not. One thing becomes more deserving rather than another. One person becomes more deserving than another. That’s when that sense of entitlement kicks in.

 

You now believe that titles means that certain privileges should just be handed to you, instead of those privileges being recognition of your efforts. Show me what you have to offer before I decide whether I shall deem you worthy. It becomes a contest of who can make the greatest offerings. The gift determines whether or not the person is worthy, and in line with what you are entitled for. Lost is that joy in the gesture. Your fight is now to provide the greatest worth to supplement your entitlement.

 

I hope that I will always retain the gratitude for the gesture. That each gift that comes my way be of great value in my eyes. That I not lose sight of what it means to receive. To have been in someone’s thoughts enough that they decided a token was necessary. That those tokens not be merely of dollar value, but also of great remembrance and affection. That I be gracious and sincere in accepting each and every single blessing.

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