Let our faces reflect our souls. Each of us, intrinsically mysterious. Let us look beyond appearance to the heart, to see in all that each is named and loved.
We are too often not the people we seem. The old woman with the torn coat may have a mended spirit just as the man with the designer suit may have a wrinkled heart.
Each of us has a story.
Mine?
I was a member of the family fugitive, traveling from place to place to avoid arrest.
I did not bring my friend into my house one day. I did not want him to see we had no electricity. I was the one who ducked into that office that handed out free lunch tickets, looking around to make sure no one saw me.
You look at me now and would never imagine whence I came.
I almost died.
Everyone has these kinds of stories. Look to the heart; do not judge the appearance. And let your face reflect your soul—especially if you have been resurrected.
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