"There's a storm coming." said the old man, holding firm to his tall staff. He was looking up to the skies, though he could not see.
"How do you know this?" asked the boy standing next to him. He admired his grandfather, so old and wise.
"Look around you, son. I needn't see to know that the storm is on it's way, because this is not a storm of wind and rain. This storm is much worse... It will come when we least want it, and it will never leave. It is a storm that affects not land and crops, but us. It is a wind of hate and selfishness. A rain of insults and curses. It will wash away all happiness and love, leaving only sorrow and bitterness. No umbrella can save you from the rain, not is there a boat strong enough to survive he flood. All that was once pretty, now will become ugly. The good will turn to bad and the once honorable men and women will turn to thieves and liars. Mothers will not care for their children, nor will brothers for their sisters. It will spread so fast, like a virus, and will infect everyone. No one is immune to it, nor is there a cure once it has spread. It will be a sad day when that storm comes. I fear that day."
"But... Why don't we do anything about it?" the boy asked "Why do we just sit and wait for the storm? Can't we stop it?!"
"Tell me, boy... do you feel love? Are you happy?"
"Yes, I am happy. I love nature and music, I love how the sky turns pink at sundown, and how the snow sparkles in winter. But... I am afraid to show that. Everyone around me is so sad and miserable, so bitter that I fear any thing I do would just be rejected. It's so much easier to pretend I am sad as well, to blend in..."
"There, my boy, is the problem. Inside of you is a sun so bright, wishing to be set free, but you conceal it. Do you think you are the only one that feels this way? And other people, with suns as bright as yours, hide it inside, not showing it out of fear of rejection. What would you do if you saw someone happy? Would it inspire you to be happy yourself?"
"I.... I think it would."
"Then be that first one! Don't let the storm come! I am old and fading way, but you can still stop the storm! Let your sun shine through and others will show their own happiness! Be who you really are and how you feel. Do not let others dictate the way you will feel! Only once the sun in every person alive is shining out, will the storm leave forever. Now go, my boy. Go, and shine."
"I will, grandfather! I love you!"
The boy ran away, with a smile so bright. The old man sat on a stone nearby. He looked to the sky, though he could not see, and quietly whispered:
"Go, my boy, and shine. I made you see the storm, now I'll be watching you stopping it...
...from the stars above."
Don't let the storm come.
"How do you know this?" asked the boy standing next to him. He admired his grandfather, so old and wise.
"Look around you, son. I needn't see to know that the storm is on it's way, because this is not a storm of wind and rain. This storm is much worse... It will come when we least want it, and it will never leave. It is a storm that affects not land and crops, but us. It is a wind of hate and selfishness. A rain of insults and curses. It will wash away all happiness and love, leaving only sorrow and bitterness. No umbrella can save you from the rain, not is there a boat strong enough to survive he flood. All that was once pretty, now will become ugly. The good will turn to bad and the once honorable men and women will turn to thieves and liars. Mothers will not care for their children, nor will brothers for their sisters. It will spread so fast, like a virus, and will infect everyone. No one is immune to it, nor is there a cure once it has spread. It will be a sad day when that storm comes. I fear that day."
"But... Why don't we do anything about it?" the boy asked "Why do we just sit and wait for the storm? Can't we stop it?!"
"Tell me, boy... do you feel love? Are you happy?"
"Yes, I am happy. I love nature and music, I love how the sky turns pink at sundown, and how the snow sparkles in winter. But... I am afraid to show that. Everyone around me is so sad and miserable, so bitter that I fear any thing I do would just be rejected. It's so much easier to pretend I am sad as well, to blend in..."
"There, my boy, is the problem. Inside of you is a sun so bright, wishing to be set free, but you conceal it. Do you think you are the only one that feels this way? And other people, with suns as bright as yours, hide it inside, not showing it out of fear of rejection. What would you do if you saw someone happy? Would it inspire you to be happy yourself?"
"I.... I think it would."
"Then be that first one! Don't let the storm come! I am old and fading way, but you can still stop the storm! Let your sun shine through and others will show their own happiness! Be who you really are and how you feel. Do not let others dictate the way you will feel! Only once the sun in every person alive is shining out, will the storm leave forever. Now go, my boy. Go, and shine."
"I will, grandfather! I love you!"
The boy ran away, with a smile so bright. The old man sat on a stone nearby. He looked to the sky, though he could not see, and quietly whispered:
"Go, my boy, and shine. I made you see the storm, now I'll be watching you stopping it...
...from the stars above."
Don't let the storm come.
Cicmila
Lovely!!
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