Scarred People Are Beautiful

Let me share with you one of the stories that was relayed to us in a “Retreat” I ad attended a long time ago.  The story goes something like this:

Eversince I could remember, I’d open my eyes everyday and I find myself standing in the middle of this vast hayfield.  I do enjoy this peace and quiet,without a bother in the world.  Then one day out of nowhere, I see this old bloke standing in front of me.  He circled me as if he was looking for something that I had taken.  What made matters worst was he slid his cold rough hands across as if measuring how angry I would get.  And as if nothing happened, he walked away and vanished from my view. I had never felt more violated in my life.  How I wished I would never see that man again. 

Weeks passed since that encounter and I was enjoying my usual afternoon, when out of nowhere “Ouch what the F*CK!”. I felt a sharp thump on my backside, a pain that I had never felt before.  This was followed by another stab on the opposite side,  IT WAS THE MAN! He thumped a stab at me several times more at different directions.  Over and over again, he would just stop and pause to step back and view the damage that he was doing. I could not wipe away his grin from my mind.  He had the look of satisfaction from my demise.  And he continued with the hell he brought to me until I just saw darkness.

I woke up aching all over, as if I was rolled over by a boulder.  Each wound as painful as the other still aching in unison.  And as I look down I could not express the horror of seeing the rest of ME scattered on the ground.  Oh how I prayed that that be the last I see of the man.  Unfortunately it seemed I did not pray hard enough.  I could not imagine how sadistic a person can be.  Causing more wounds on top of fresh ones.  I hated the MAN for what he was doing.  I hated MYSELF for letting this happen.  I hated EVERYTHING!.  And still the man kept on.

The routine went on for days, as days went into weeks and weeks into months.  I was full of spite towards the man.  I did not know hom I was able to hate someone so much. But I did.  Everyday a new pain, as if he was not satisfied until he riddled every inch of my body with hurt.  And how I despised his grin, I wanted to knock that smug grin everytime he stopped to stare at his handiwork. I had started to accept my fate and let things be.  I would learn to accept the pain and hope that the man will get his fix, leave and let me be. 

Then one day as I was anticipating for the next blow to come, the man suddenly stopped.  He stepped away a few steps and starred.  I did not see the usual annoying grin that I usually see on him,but more a look and a smile of a person with a satisfied whim.  Could it be that he already has his fix and that he would let me be?  Oh please let this be the case.  And when I was just about to let down my guard, a thick wool cloth engulfed me.  I could feel that I was being lifted off the ground.  “No, no, NOOOOOO!!!”.

Wasn’t it enough that he had caused me pain for several months day in day out?  That he had to subject me to the most that I can bear? And now he had to move me away from the place that I had known as my home for the longest time.  When will he ever stop?” When will he stop terrorizing me? When will my scars heal?

We had travelled some great distance when I felt that I was being put down.  I had sensed that wherever he had brought me was different from the place that I have known all my life.  I could hear a mob of anxious people now.  “Oh is this the end of me?” I felt like each and every person was just waiting for the wool cloth to be removed for them to have a go at me. 

And as the wool cloth was lifted and as I anticipated the next set of jabs.  What happened was far from what I had expected.  The mob that I had though was there to finish me off was there staring back at me. Its so hard to describe the look in their eyes, but the nearest word would be “awestruck”.  I could hear the words, “beautiful”, “magnificent”, “inspiring”, “masterpiece” in the gaps as the crowd rang with applause as they looked at me in amazement. 

I was dumbstruck at what just happened, until in the not so far distance, two men carrying a full length mirror passed by in front of me and I stared back at the most beautiful marble statue anyone can lay their eyes on.  What used to be that thick slab of rock standing in the middle of the hayfield, is now a town’s centerpiece, showing what beauty is.  And I realized from that day on, that each and every scar that that man had left on me, is what had made me beautiful.