The hunger to draw on the glass and see through it too

Posted on December 14, 2007

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My hunger for the beauty of this life far exceeds physical hunger. It manifests itself in some of the smallest ways, and yet this is the hunger that keeps my feet moving, my eyes open, and my heart swelling and beating. It’s my hunger for oxygen when I wake in the morning, my hunger to laugh, my hunger to sit and have conversations that last for hours, my incredible hunger to understand how you see your life around you, my hunger to unlock doors, answer questions, put two and two together and to make one plus one equal three.

It’s the same hunger I had yesterday morning while I was walking around looking for the right pair of shoes for you.

I wonder who you are. I wonder what color your eyes are and how they light up when something makes you happy. I’ve never met you and I probably never will, but the idea that I could help make your holiday just a bit sweeter fills me up. I wish I knew what you like to talk about, or what you find pretty, or what your laugh sounds like. I wish I could be your older sister for a day. We would have a blast.

I feel like a small girl in the window seat of the bus. It’s a cold winter day and the bus ride is fairly calm. I am drawing pictures in the condensation on my window. My finger slides across the freezing glass, leaving a clear trail for a few seconds. With each new picture I create a twenty-second masterpiece, and with each new picture I can see the world outside a little bit more.

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