With all this talk of holidays, I have been thinking a great deal about what I hope for you.
It's so difficult, given how much we all hope to impose our way of looking at things and doing things, to leave each other open to just seeing and appreciating the world. We want so much to know that our way of looking is the way others look, when each of us look at the world as different as we look from each other. When I think of what I wish for you, it is a way of seeing:
I pray you see the beauty in carnations,
in daisies and cattails.
I pray that if you cringe at touching a frog's slimy skin,
you still love looking into its those big amphibious eyes.
I pray that the skies remain clear enough for you to see the stars beyond,
and you remain curious enough to want to learn the shapes of constellations.
I pray you discover the beauty beyond randomness.
I want you to love the order of the universe and laugh at its chaos.
I pray you know the opposite of Love is not Hate, it is Fear.
I pray that you are fascinated by the stories of the poor and the rich
and you love people for who they are, not who they know.
I pray you understand that words can hurt
but that they needn't hurt you
because you are half of the magic of any spoken spell:
you get to decide if it is true for you.
(People can say many silly (and untrue) things and you mustn't, mustn't believe them.)
I pray that you love the world with curiosity and not with critique.
I pray you come to understand how much I long to see your face --
and when you do that you can imagine how God must feel wanting to see us happy.
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