In some way, however small and secret, each of us
is a little hurt, a little angry. We are all a little lonely, crying to be heard and understood. Never entirely understanding
someone else, mattering not how hard we try. Each of us remaining partially strangers, even to those who love us, mattering
not how hard they try. Consequently, an attempt to entirely understand those not close to us is and always will be fruitless
efforts.
Why is it that the cruel are weak, forcing their
will on the innocent? Why is it that gentleness is found in the strong? I have learned that those who do not know fear are
not brave, for courage is the capacity to confront evil.
I am able now to more understand many others as I
see them for what they are by their foul deeds. I have come to realize that which is most important of all, fulfillment comes
only when I push my intellect and heart to the farthermost reaches of which I am capable in this fight against wickedness.
For the purpose of life is to matter, to count, to stand for something, to make a difference that I lived at all.
