My Grandma

I feel a whisper in my ear
Someone I know
Yes, she’s here

I feel a brush against my hair
Someone’s laughing
Love and care

I feel a kiss upon my tears
Someone understanding
I know she hears

You knew so much
Yet left me here
With just your touch
It’s hard to bear

But when I look in the sky
I know you’re there
Somewhere high
Urging to dare

You’re the one I know
Who hears my prayers
And keeps me safe
From unknown blows

Yes, she isn’t here
And yet she is
People forget her
But I know she lives

I love you too, Grandma

{This is to my Grandma who died a year ago}

A Quick Note

Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I definitely haven't forgotten about posting on my blog - I've just been busy working on college applications that were due today. So I'll be posting soon, but I just wanted to let you know what's been up with me :)

Shopping for the Pampers

It flashed across the TV screen while I was working out at the gym: a Pampers’ commercial. Of course, ordinarily a diapers commercial wouldn’t interest me – why should it? Seriously, it’s one of the last things on my mind. But it still caught my attention, and I looked up at it.

A woman gently sang “Happy Birthday” while a mother was shown cradling her small cooing baby. At the end, the commercial announced that every time a package of Pampers was bought, a vaccine/shot would be given to save one baby’s life somewhere around the world.

Okay, so what’s extraordinary about that? Pampers is trying to help – to support a good cause – while promoting themselves. But, what if not enough Pampers were bought to save some of the babies? What if there wasn’t enough money to go around (from different organizations as well) to save all of them? Would Pampers refuse to help? Could they refuse to help? In the extreme sense, would they let a child die because not enough Pampers were sold? I understand they’re helping to raise money for this, but do they ever refuse to save life because of money – money they have, but not particularly set aside for this cause?

Because I don’t think I could ever refuse someone who pleaded for a vaccine to help save their baby’s life. I just couldn’t – I think life, I think a person, is so much more important than money. I know that I’d probably be bankrupt with that attitude if I lived in poorer country – but wouldn’t it almost be worth it? How can someone see a mother watch her baby die, while knowing she couldn’t save what was most important to her?

And it’s amazing – the money needed for something like a vaccine must be so small. How else could a company say that purchasing diapers is also purchasing a vaccine? So how come there isn’t enough money for something so cheap? Usually people feel for people, usually people want to help & give. So why isn’t there enough? And I think it’s because people can become numb.

We see people die on the other side of the world – so what? We can’t fix that, it isn’t necessarily our problem. We see people begging for money on the city streets, but that really isn’t our problem – what if they use the money for drugs? What if we gave away all our money – we couldn’t, could we? So what’s the point to give, and just be asked for more and more? We might hear friends wanting to borrow money because they say they need food, but they never pay you back. Do you really want to keep going on like that?

And that – that is becoming numb. It’s not feeling for others, because they’re just someone we’ve already seen before. It's not fixing a problem, because we know we can't fix the whole of it. But we can help fix things – we can help others. And we know we can’t save everyone, but we know we can save some. We may not succeed, but we can always try.

As for me, sometimes I just want to give someone everything I have freely – my heart to someone - when they haven’t even asked for it. I just feel for people, I don’t want them to not have enough money for basic needs, because money is really nothing compared to life, nothing compared to family & friends, nothing compared to love. And sometimes I feel like I die in a way when I can’t help someone who really needs it. Maybe someday that attitude will get me into trouble – but wouldn’t it almost worth it? To be poor in money, but rich in happiness.

{feel free to comment!}

A Real Person

Sometimes my Mom sounds a little too much like me. Yesterday she decided to get into this discussion about how a real person goes past what other people say, and goes ahead anyway. She says that’s the sign of a person who’s grown up – a person who’s complete.

However, last night my Mom told me I’m not capable. And when someone tells you something that, labels you like that, you kind of get this cold icy feeling gush over you – or at least I do. I think she noticed, as she quickly told me that I need to prove her wrong. I need to look past what she says - like a real person - and go ahead anyway. I shouldn’t let words stop me.

But I feel like, to not care about what she says, I have to believe that I’m on my own – that I am the only person who cares for me. That I’m a lone soldier fighting on my own, because the people who love me most seem to have left my side. However I don’t believe I’m alone – I believe that people are supposed to support each other – that maybe a lone soldier can fight a battle, but not a war, as an army could. But my parents are the people I most deeply love, so how can I fight against what they say? How can I not feel words from the people who are supposed to love and support me in every way that is good? How can I take someone out of my heart, if they occupy the whole of it?

Sometimes we believe what we want to believe, rather than the bare truth. I want to believe that I can go past what my parents say and not be negatively affected by it. I want to believe that what they say, or rather challenging what they say, makes me stronger – that it’s for my good & that they’re teaching me not to be reliant upon them.

But that’s not true.

Because what they say hurts, what they say cracks open my heart. I am affected by what they say, and it tears me apart. They are not supposed to be my challenge; they are supposed to help me get rid of my challenges. That’s my truth. They are wrenching me – twisting me – and how can you say that breaking something and gluing it back together makes the object stronger? How can you say going past what you feel makes you become a complete person?

For our feelings make us people, our reasoning makes us human. I am not a dog, not an ant, not a fish. I am human. I am not dead. I am alive. I am not ignorant. I feel with my heart, and think with my mind.

Finding the Bow in the Rain

Once a boy and his family were forced out of their house, so he had to work to support them. Two years later, more tragedy befell him, and his mother died. A few years later, he failed in business. He decided to run for state legislature, but lost. He lost a job too, so he applied to law school, but couldn't get in. He then borrowed money from a friend to begin a business, but by the end of the year he was bankrupt.

Then his fiancé died, and he was heartbroken. He had a nervous breakdown and was in bed for six months. He tried to become speaker of the state legislator and lost. He tried to become an elector and lost. He ran for Congress and lost. He ran for Congress again and finally won, but lost his re-election. He tried to get the position of land officer (in his home state!) but was rejected. He ran for U.S. Senate and lost. He ran for Vice President and lost. He ran again for U.S. Senate and lost again. And then, by chance, he became president - President Abraham Lincoln.

That's astounding when you think about it– it almost defies human limits: to keep trying, to keep failing, to keep trying, to keep failing. Somehow it seems like a normal human being would give up along the way – say that he couldn’t handle it, that it just wasn’t meant to be, that he couldn’t beat the odds. Then again, Lincoln wasn’t a normal human being. But then, are any of us?

The element that distinguishes successful people from non-successful people is not luck – it’s how they view failure. Or sometimes it’s just as simple as realizing, when they feel like giving up, why they held on for so long.

Remember why you’ve held on; remember why you haven’t given up yet. Where there’s a will there’s a way, because there is nothing stronger than your set will. The way will be cruel, it will hurt, it will test you, but that just means that what you are going after is worth so much more.

Lincoln wasn’t a normal human being. We don’t have to be either.

{Just in case, finding the bow in the rain = rainbow ;) }

Vulnerable

What makes your heart tick?

What makes your face glow?

What makes you smile?

I want to know

I want to peek inside your heart

See if it’s for me

Set apart

I want to steer within your mind
Find if it’s as pure

As it is kind

I want to know all your passions

See what they are

Exquisite fashions

I want to see what you love

Money and riches

Or hearts from above

What makes your heart tick?

What makes your face glow?

What makes you smile?

I want to know

Could it be me?

But do you see in me
What I see in you
Could you forever be
Everlasting true

Do you love me
Would you watch me go?
Or would you follow
No matter where I flow

Are you really different?
Do you truly care
What’s inside of me
Or am I in your hair?

Do you care as much of me
As I do of you
Or am I just another girl
To drop on a cue

Want to see what’s in my heart?
My mind, body, soul
Or really just tear it apart
For your own personal goal

Do you care what makes my heart tick?

Do you care what makes my face glow?

Do you care what makes me smile too?

I want to know

Armed with Crayons

Reading old diaries is always fun – especially when they aren’t your own. A few years ago, my Mom gave me a diary she kept right before, and a couple years after, I was born. And no matter what mood I’m in when I start peering through the pages, I always end up with a laugh somehow escaping me.

There are cute little memories in-between the folds, where my Mom tells how I’d run to get a tissue for my baby sister without being asked, or how I’d try to help give her a bath. Then there are the funny stories where I’d try stay in the library longer by refusing to put my jacket on until my Mom whispered, “Cookie.” Or where my big brother showed me a picture of a frilled lizard, and I smartly proclaimed, “He has a costume on.”

However, my favorite little story in the diary is when I would ask for a blank piece of paper to draw on by saying, “Mommy, can I have an empty picture?” And I like it, not just because it’s cute, but also because I saw the blank white piece of paper for its potential, rather than just for what it was.

And maybe we can go further - just as a blank piece of paper lacks a picture, we could see that maybe hate is not purely hate, but a lack of love, and that despair is an absence of hope. We could see that a problem isn't always something terrible - it's just something that doesn't have a solution yet.

So here's to picking up my purple crayon, and erasing away my empty picture.

{Btw, I have to say thanks to you all for cheering me on - I wish that words could thank you enough, but somehow they'd fall short no matter what I said. Thanks so much for caring about me - you're amazing <3 }