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The
Color of Love When I was growing up, I had no
idea what prejudice meant! I still don’t know how to spell
the word! When I grew up in my
neighborhood, there were no angry people
feeling all upset over life, defiantly waving their causes in
the faces of a different color. I was color blind when I was
growing up. Without knowing this, life
was just fine and unlimited. I am proudly still color blind!
I do not
see the color of disadvantage. I love the differences in our
skin tones. I love the variations of every
single person. Wow! What beautiful dark skin,
all shiny and perfect. What a wonderful coffee and cream
mixture so sweet it dances. What a wonderful mottled abstract
canvas of all of us! What a wonderful absence of
color, as in color blind.
I do not
see the color of separation. I have missing cones in my eyes! I cannot see colors equally, so I
am told; how would I know? I am gifted without seeing
separations because of skin tone. I am blessed knowing beauty on
the outside is our individual gift. I am wise enough to know inside
these variations we are equal given equal
opportunity.
I do not
see the color of in-equality. My color blindness is normal to
me. I have never been without it! In the second grade we all
learned the 3rd dot from the
right is the color red, the 4th dot was blue,
and the 5th dot was yellow. No matter how I see color, it has
a name. We all agreed to name the dots
red, blue, yellow, black and white. There are websites to show you
what I see, but none can show me what you
see.
I do not
see the color of differences.
All the children who have helped me grow
I
do
See
the
Color
of
Love
This is written with the intent to be freely given to all.
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These words came rushing across the page after Michael Brown was killed and the 2014 Ferguson, Missouri, tragedy started a chain of reaction still unfolding. I have been color blind my entire life, knowing we are all equal before society separated us. However, the more research, the more I learn it is the nature of Homo sapiens to be tribal separatists. Someone said sixty years ago, the only way we will become one is to mix all the colors together so we all blend in. However in the meantime, I have been privileged to be color blind. While my granddaughter read out loud, I was transfixed with this almost six year old resting on my right arm, reading far beyond her years, words I had written without a thought of this precious child. She read these words with a few hesitation and questions, understanding my responses as if an equal. I have more than my share of genius children without any genetics from me. I have been included in their lives by our choice and/or divine guidance, or merely a chance at random paths crossing. "There are no accidents ... " Today, September 21st 2016, another young man came and went, leaving us both knowing we had a destiny meeting while we were making other plans. It seems the Color of Love transcends all labels, and my grand daughters' reading brings generations to the knee, with tears of joy flowing with Love. Please Share them any and every way you can. |
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