I saw a child today, so precious and small. In her hands, lovingly tucked, a parcel of handmade paper hearts.
“These are for my friends,” she gleamed.
Her father explained the ‘challenges’ she’d experienced, having been born with a rare genetic defect. “Downs Syndrome,” he said. “Can you believe they asked if we wanted to keep her?”
“Kids can be so cruel,” he said as his eyes began to tear. “We tried to explain that she was different, but…”
As if being different were a sin.
She began this process of creating paper hearts. Long into the night, she’d whittle and work in wonderment. And, then? She’d tuck the hearts into a drawstring bag only to return with it empty again.
“We don’t know why,” he said, smiling. “I suppose it’s just how she is.”
Never one to shy from curiosity, I scrunched down, leaned in and asked, “Darling, where do the hearts go each day?”
I already knew the answer.
“I give them to my friends,” she said. “Because all our hearts are the same.”
And with impish grin, she shared one with me, too.
Indeed, our hearts bridge where the eyes deceive. We are all one – precious, beautiful, imperfect human beings.
And though I’ve received many hearts in my day, this one – I believe this to be one of my most loved.
In peace, my darlings – and with cherished blessings, that we might all know the boundlessness these littlest of hearts may bring.
Namaste <3
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