Some are worried that they don’t have eyeglasses; but others have no eyes.
Some are worried that they don’t handbags; but others have no arms.
Some are worried that they don’t have a new pair of shoes; but others have no feet.
Some are worried that they are getting fat. They get anxious and are dying to get trimmed; but others simply don’t have food; they are hungry and dying.
Some are worried that they lost their comb; worried that they don’t have any shampoo; but others have no hair at all and their bald heads are exposed to weather harassment.
Some are worried that they don’t have a ring; but others have no fingers.
Some are worried that their noses are flat like bars; but others have no nose, only holes (the lepers in the leprosarium).
Some are worried that their cheeks, once pinkish with youthfulness, are now accumulating furrows of shadows; but others have no cheeks at all, only bones.
Why do some people—a lot of them—invest their time, effort, money, and even worrying about their skin, about the covering, about the wrappings, about the tag, about the color, about the paint, about their hairdo, about how they smell—about the nonessentials that do not touch the core of self?
I admire those who do not have the essentials—those without eyes, without limbs, without arms, without feet, and yet they do not worry to death, but instead dare to cross the border of nothingness and enter into a world of creativity. What spirit transports them into that new world? These people have the spirit of faith that transcends reason; they have the love that penetrates the dark. They are the brave ones. They inspire the hopeless. They have no medals. No rank of major or general, but they are the undeclared heroes of our time.