Accepting People
By Lena Champlin
“Take my hand black crow, open your white heart, I can teach you to fly.”
There is a man who has killed another man. This man loves his golden dog with all his heart. There is a lady who hated her friend. This lady loved to paint flowers with raindrop-laden leaves that held the world in their tiny brilliance. There was a lady who was mean to her family and she yelled at them. This lady could sing so beautifully that the trees turned their shaggy heads to listen to her. A man cut down a forest. He painted people that were as alive as the sky. Each person hides behind their black cloak, but underneath each one there is white light. I learned that all people have something good inside them and that sometimes it is inside them really deep and you have to look hard to see it. I learned that all people have bad things about them. If we did not, we would have nothing to learn, nothing to grow to. If all flowers came out of the ground already in blossom, it would be less beautiful when they grew into a flower because they would have no growing to do. People are beautiful because they all are so different from one another. I learned mainly to accept these differences and love them all.
What I learned about people has helped me. One of the reasons it was so important was that I don’t hate anyone anymore. Hating people is a waste of all of our lives, which are far too short. With what I have learned I can spend time loving and helping the world. Another reason why what I learned was so important is that a lot can be learned from being friends with people that are different from you. Maybe they know something that you never thought about or have a story they can tell you. We can learn from each other if we can accept each other. One of the best things about learning something is that you can then teach it to other people. What I learned was important because I could then teach it to my family and friends and help them learn to see the light in all people.
I had a friend named Rebecca. Her family all hunted. I love animals and believe that people should not hunt. She had been raised thinking that it was the right thing. By accepting that she was different than me, I could teach her how I felt and help her see the wondrous beauty of life and love. Once I brought her to see a family of beavers living by our home. It was a warm summer night, and the air hung heavy around us as we walked with bare feet on the warm cement of the road. The river was a small one and one I had grown to love. It is a laughing river. We stopped on the edge of the water, our feet in the cold sand. It was a day where soft gray clouds hang in the air waiting and letting a soft drizzle as light as sheep’s wool fall down at intervals throughout the day. I stared out over the water; sometimes the beavers did not come out. An early dusk was falling around us. Rebecca told me a story about her father shooting a beaver. I tried to remember the good things about her even though the story shot through my heart as if I was the beaver. I looked out over the water and saw the beavers. As silent as snow they came and gazed about with tiny, black eyes. They had big furry heads like bears. I think Rebecca saw the beauty in the thick coats and round faces of the beavers. I hope that she will remember what I taught her and she will be a better person because of it. I have helped her by accepting that she was different than me and so have helped myself spread love.
I have learned to open my eyes to people. If we open our eyes, we can open our hearts. I learned that each person has a spark within them; I will hold their hands. When we love everyone, we can fly.