I am walking,

People walking by.

Each one with his own story

Of joys and pains,

Of suffering and delight.

Sometimes it requires a conscious effort

To divert the attention

From inside

To outside;

From myself

To others around me.

That lady who walks briskly by herself on a cold November day,

Does she have anyone who is waiting for her at home?

That man who is laughing with his little girl,

Does he know the One who will take care of his girl when he’s gone?

The world is full of emotions

Even on a bleary day when nature prefers to skulk.

Each one’s got a story.

What is yours?

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