Fine and delicate folded paper. White, in the middle of the
room, it seems minuscule. It multiplies itself, however, through its projected shadow. Symbol of the beauty extending from myself to the other and
returning to me. Small gesture, and gift, that brings me consolation and reminds me of why what I do matters. Because, after writing, someone folds a lovely light Tsuru and returns to me the wings I have helped setting free.
I feel I upset many people. Maybe it is something I do, but the feeling I get is that what upsets them is the way I live, the choices I make. People get upset with me when they hear I don't believe in God. If I tell them that I once did, but have lost my faith after I lost my first child, a premature baby, they fail to grasp the complexity of it. They look at me with irritating condescendent pityful eyes and they think I can be "fixed." To be fair, maybe I fail to help them understand that after what happened to me, God as I came to know it and most people of Christian beliefs do, is of no use to me. God proved himself either nonexistent or useless to me when my first born died and when I almost followed him due to Eclampsia and Hellp Syndrome (Go ahead and google it! Unless you are doctor or had someone in the family who had this, you will never know it.) He did not save my baby and he did not spare me the excruciating suffering I had to endure. And if you think I...
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