Wednesday, October 17, 2007
I don't know you, nor will I ever. I avoid strangers and am even cool to my own family because it's my nature. I am a good mother and a peaceful soul, just a wee bit indifferent towards the world. Life started out harshly for my sister and I, our father was never around and our mother, God rest her soul, did the best she could without any help from anyone.

So, I learned early about the coldness of the world and set my heart accordingly. I go my own way and snatch happiness from where I can. My children are grown and no longer need me. We meet in passing each day and nothing more. I enjoy morning walks around the neighborhood, while the community awakes from slumber and leaves me to my own thoughts.

My sister is my complete opposite; warm, friendly and pleasant to everyone, I suspect because of fate. You see, our folks adopted her before me and filled her emptiness with love and warmth. I waited much longer and so endured many more days of hunger and loneliness.

I need to be held and cuddled, just like everyone else; I just don't typically go looking for it. Rather, I wait for it to be offered and then respond with cool indifference. It's my protection, you see, from rejection.

I guess my heart is fragile and is afraid of being broken. People say that one never gets over a deep emotional wound and mine began after birth. But I manage. I cope with the everyday hurts without complaint. I keep my scars hidden from the rest of the world and suffer in silence.

My folks are truly wonderful and I love them dearly. They know and understand me and let me go my own way.

They rescued me from a certain death and for that I'm forever grateful. Their love for me is complete and genuine, I couldn't ask for more.

I guess that about wraps it up for me; I've nothing more to say. If you ever meet someone who is homeless, I hope you'll open your hearts and homes to them and take them in from the coldness of the world. Most certainly, they will not only open their hearts to you in return but will stand by you for the rest of their lives.
Signed,
Miss O'Reilley Kenney-Cat

This story is by Nicholas Kenney. Visit his website at www.RealCorker.com

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