The Perfect Loom?

By MH, Age 17

The perfect loom would weave the perfect blanket.
But that is quite impossible.
When looking at a blanket that has been weaved you can see faults.
The tassels are never equal to the ones beside them.
The pattern is disturbing.
Many colors clash instead of flowing together as in a rainbow.
But most importantly, the blanket lacks the purpose of warmth that it should have.
The world we live in is unequal.
Unfortunately the world is filled with war and discord to a point where unity is almost unrecognizable.
There is a constant pattern of hate in a school or on a city street which is very recognizable.

The environment we live in is filled with selfishness and hate towards one another.
When looking at a rainbow you can see how the colors blend nicely together.
We look at the people around us and we want to be able to say the same.
How come we can’t associate our skin colors to be the same as a rainbow of colors?
We find that we want to live in a world of warmth.
We want to feel the love all around us.
To see people lending a hand to one another out of love, but that is not the world we live in.
Unfortunately, no matter what is done we can never change every fault in the world.
The tassels, the pattern, the color, and the warmth will never reach the outcome of perfect.

The Beauty of a Woman

By MH, Age 17

I have always agreed with the Gaelic Proverb that says, “Modesty is the beauty of a woman.”  The problem today is that everyday people and many celebrities show their beauty in a way that contradicts the Proverb.  The world today views true beauty as outward appearance.  By outward appearance, I don’t mean a girl’s face, but I mean the way she dresses and the cleavage she shows.  In a random 20 person survey, guys were asked what they would rather see a girl dressed in.  Five guys voted that they would rather see a girl wearing tight-fitting, revealing clothing.  Eight guys voted that it depends on the situation.  Seven guys voted on sweat pants and a comfortable look.  A lot of girls use their clothes to show exhibitionism.  Their clothes act as the extravagant behavior to attract attention to themselves. 

Many girls believe that in order for them to be beautiful they have to show off their body.  Many girls believe that showing skin is sexy.  Christina Mead once said, “Don’t let the crowd tell you that skin equals sexy, and that’s the only way to be beautiful.”  She shares a great point.  If you walk around a school you see many girls, more than you can count on your hands and toes, who reveal themselves.  Girls get it in their heads that if they have their boobs out then they will be sexy and beautiful.  What they don’t know is that scandalous is not a true beautiful way to look.  When they show off their bodies they also lose the sense of wonder.  Emma Watson said in an interview, “What’s sexy about saying ‘I’m here with my boobs out and a short skirt, have a look at everything I’ve got?’ My idea of sexy is that less is more.  The less you reveal the more people can wonder.”  Her statement about less is more, meaning the less you reveal is more, is a statement of respect.  When you show yourself off it is a statement of disrespect towards yourself.  An anonymous man said, "The girl who chooses to be modest chooses to be respected. 

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It's All About Me

Renee, LSWA

I'm the mom of a teenage daughter.  Thanks for your sympathy!  She's a great girl-beautiful, talented, smart, kind (most of the time)!  She's really a good kid and I'm so very proud to be her mom.  But even my "good kid" can become easily caught up in the "Me, Me, Me!"  pit.  Last summer, she won a Go Phone at a Bingo.  You can imagine the excitement of the first cell phone.  I was wary at first about the whole thing but her dad and I decided she could have it, but she had to earn the money to keep it stocked with minutes.  She did odd jobs for friends of the family and her aunts and uncles and she did earn the money.  She was never without the phone, waiting for the next "bzzz" to notify her when someone was trying to communicate with her. 

Much to my dismay, it became a constant companion and we began to see more of the top of her bent head and less of her beautiful face.  As she turned more inward, communication with my daughter changed drastically.  I didn't like who my daughter was becoming and I didn't like who I was becoming with her. 

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Youth "Get It" ~ Responding With Their Hearts

By Chuck (Sharing Compassion)

The past two weekends I had the privilege to represent Compassion at Youth Encounter's Quake Conference in Hunt Valley, MD.  This was a new partnership for Compassion and my involvement is interesting. We had signed up last fall to work the table for sponsorships. Late last year the event dropped off our list of events to work and it was explained to us that they would be doing their own staffing due to the long periods of downtime. With my job situation I felt that it was for the best as I did not know what my schedule would be. Fast forward to the second week of January and I got a call from Colorado asking if I would be willing to do the event. They actually wanted someone who would be willing to work the table for the weekend and if I wanted to then perhaps be available to speak to the youth.  Still not employed I certainly had the time and those that know me know I would never pass up a chance to speak on behalf of Compassion.

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Love Songs

By Sarah (Living Between the Lines)

In life, there are these rare but brilliant moments in time when you know that you have experienced something special and unspeakable…  Sitting on the porch of a cabin in the woods, listening to the raindrops slapping the leaves.  Watching snow fall during the quiet dark of the middle of the night.  Swinging in a hammock with your eyes closed, feeling the hot breeze move across your face while the crickets and frogs screech and scream at each other…

One day last August, I came home from work at the end of one of the hottest days of the year in Eastern North Carolina. It was the kind of heat that could almost melt your tractor tires, but the local farmers had spent the day harvesting and so I could see the dust lingering in the almost-breezeless air.  As I pulled into my driveway, the sun sank behind the trees, leaving behind only a faint puff of pink afterglow.  I sat behind my steering wheel, watching the pink fade to dark and I felt like a child who had been told a secret.  But what was the secret?  It was at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t quite reach it. 

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