She kissed the bugs

She’d been a delicate child, but most who entered her life saw an exterior that did not match the interior soul. She climbed trees and onto rooftops without fear of heights. She did not fuss about her hair or the way she wore her clothes. She had no concern for the shell that housed her spirit. She kissed the bugs she found in the garden and ate the beautiful flowers, delighting in their delicious pollens.
The question that persisted in her mind was, “Why do the grown-ups hate me?” It was bad enough the other children evaded her as though she carried a communicable disease.
A voice only she could hear, spoke, shattering the fog of despair that had enveloped her mind, saying, “You are not a product of this world. They fear what they don’t understand. They attack in hopes you will defend yourself in a way they perceive to be normal. They wish to be the ones who can claim to have performed the miracle of healing. They do not comprehend they would destroy your spirit were they to cause this transformation.”
The voice consoled her and caressed her spirit with the final words, “Be still and be strong my beautiful flower. One day I will come back for you.”
© Zora Zebic 2016

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