My Daily Letter To “You” #4
I was loved by my mother as a child; she still does. She shield me the best she could. Nobody touch her youngest. And when I look back, maybe that’s how I learn my natural care for people, and my capacity to love. She mold me.
My father is cold. Perhaps he loves me, yes, but he loves himself more. I never felt any warmth from my father. He is distant. The closest I get with him is when we are around people. He likes showing to an audience how good he is as a father, how he loves me. But I never felt that because it desolves when the crowd is gone. I grew up wanting to prove him something. But he always made me feel that I’m not good enough. For many years I thought I was stupid. He made my failures even harder.
My mother gave me the applause that my father refused to give. She applauded me with every little things I do. When I fail, she is the person I don’t want to see. But she is there anyway. I grew up promising myself not to do anything that would make my mother less proud of me.
Warm and cold, they both mold me.
My creator puts me in a mold to shape me according to his plans. He engineered me, leaving his imprints through the things, places, moments and the people he sent inside that mold as I move forth. At this point of my life, I have learned to allow Him.
Life I’ve realized is a seed
Neglect life and it shall perish
Celebrate life and it shall grow and florish.
Family and friends are extension of God’s love to nurture the seed.
Joys and sorrows are moments to mold us.
The fruit is a sturdy, seasoned tree ~
Whose hands do you allow to mold you?
I wish you well ~ Jeques