“Who hurt you, once,
so far beyond repair
that you would meet each overture
with curling lip?
While we, who knew you well,
your friends, (the focus of your scorn)
could see your courage in the face of fear,
your wit, and thoughtfulness,
and will remember you
with something close to love.”
― Louise Penny, Bury Your Dead
__________________________________
Sometimes
When we do not believe in ourselves
We all we can feel is our failings
Our deficits
When all we can remember is the hurt
The loss
The times when we were judged “not enough”
And love faded
Or perhaps sprinted for the door
There are people
Angels perhaps, in disguise
Who see the best in us
And think of us
Not as damaged goods
But as precious souls
And give us the acceptance
And love we need
To start anew
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