no little five-year-old girl or boy sits on the carpet of their kindergarten class during sharing time and says they want to be homeless when they grow up. But the streets had entrusted Aria with a truth. And it was a truth that she would never forget. It was a truth whose whisper reaches all of us in the sweet luxury of a smile, in the grave-grabbing shade of grief. It tells you to look deeper … to look deeper still. To look beyond the space between people and see that you are that smile, you are that grief. You are that man who crawls into his cardboard box for the night. You are that man who owns the high-rise above him. And you are the earth that holds the dichotomy of them both. It is not he who walks the soiled streets of the city, repenting. It is not he, who clings to his proud titles of accomplishment, boasting, that finds his place in the family of things and himself with it. Instead, what Aria now knew was that it was he, who was brave enough to see himself … in everyone around him.
Вы читаете Hunger of the Pine
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