The story of a gal….

This is a story of a lil girl. A girl young enough to believe in miracles but old enough to be wary of strangers. She lived in a great mansion full of people who never spoke to her. She didn’t know why she was there. The mansion itself was beautiful with views of seaside and beautiful beaches…magnificent and yet scary in its bigness and aloofness. She loved talking and never lost an opportunity to make conversations but was scared of approaching strangers. But somehow no one seemed to care what she spoke about or why she was terrified of thunderstorms. She loved to spend time near the window lying upside down on the couch…and looking at the world that way amused her curious mind.

Did I mention that she loved painting? well, she did.

She liked painting sunsets with big yellow suns…and bright blue birds. She loved dabbling with the water colors…she had found the paints and a beautiful big brush in the attic…and she spent hours drawing intricate images which flitted thru her imagination. You see, she lived thru her paintings.

She would fill every brush stroke with her individuality and dream of accolades and admiration….they were not the driving forces for her love for painting…but who amongst us don’t dream of being told we are good?

Once she was done with the painting.. she would hang it on the corridor, so that others in the mansion can see and tell her what they think of her work. The corridor had her paintings on either side. Just yesterday, she put up a painting of a rose’s heart. She had seen it in the early morning mist. She had worked for hours to catch the exact hue in her water colors.

She would hide behind the stairway to look who would walk up to her painting in the corridor. Her heart would give a leap of thrill every time she thought of the expression on the beholder’s eye. In fact as she stood there waiting… she would see appreciation, acknowledgment, scorn…..on every other person’s face and she would blush when she imagined somebody telling her that they too had seen a rose’s heart and it was exactly the way she had drawn it and how she would defend her painting when someone would laugh at it!

But the truth was.. she never saw anyone. No, one stopped.. even once to glance at her painting. Day after day…her hope would turn to despair as people just passed by never noticing the paintings.

As days passed, the girl grew miserable…it became obvious to her that she was bad. She did not hate painting but she resented that she would never get to know what others thought!

One fine day, out of despair she broke her beautiful brush and cried her heart out sitting under the rose bush.

When she woke up, she could see stars shining down on her…and she got up to get herself to bed. As she moved towards the corridor she heard hushed voices and just out of curiosity she peeped into the corridor and what she saw made her eyes pop out!

She saw people gazing at her paintings…exclaiming…praising and sometimes shaking their head as if displeased.

Of course they didn’t ignore her paintings! She ran back to the place where she had thrown her brush…Miraculously the brush had mended itself. As the girl walked back smiling with her brush held to her bosom, the rose bush angel smiled..

Moral of the story: Please drop a comment in my blog now and then