Caring
I never was a princess all my life, many would think I grew up in the tallest of towers, and the greenest gardens, and the cleanest air, and the healthiest environment, a wise, noble princess obviously is that way! But, no it's exactly the opposite, I am Celestia, I lived in the streets of Canterlot, in the rather poor sections, and I learned my way through life as it is, with experiences both sad, and happy, for that is how a wise person becomes wise.
I think that the way life is, should be enjoyed by the ones experiencing it, oh, everyone has the wish of riches, and better health, btu I believe all the townsmen are wrong here, I believe they are utterly desiring what they can't have, and it is no use panicking for what is no use for even laying a little finger upon one..
I met a merchant yesterday, who said that he would like all the riches in the world, it be a rich marble palace with a pool, or it be a garden chamber, and a private land with gates, instead of having to struggle paying off his accessories..
The little merchant seemed to have wanted all he could get in his mind, but he never payed attention to what better life he had then most of the folks I knew, that his life was desired by most. The merchant only laughed, and stated no one would ever desire his life..
The merchant had beautiful children, a kind wife, and at least a house, and enough money to buy food and drink, that not many had, for the merchant never even thought of the man that I knew who would do anything to have even a little taste of what that life might be like..
I live near a little shop of coffee from Neighthiopia, where a dirt road divides my house and the coffee shop, my house is a little hut, with wooden carvings of flowers, deserts, and the king's royal hat..
I was walking around the street, after having some coffee, and I just exited out the door of the cafe, to almost trample a humble, little stallion who was lying down on the wall, resting, he was quite ugly, with buck teeth sticking out, all thin and yellow, and besides his two front teeth, the rest of his mouth was entirely toothless, he was old, and his grey blackish beard grew to his chest, and he raised his thin hooves.
This horrible devil happened to be my family's bitter enemy, as he was the disgrace of the middle class who lived in this town, he selfishly, weakly called out for some coffee, or something to eat, I ignored him as one of those stupid beggars..
I went inside the house, uncomfortable by the man's status around my street, and near my house, he was a little old troll, yes, he was, a simple, old troll, he was like fleas, pestering on an old dog's fur, he had no right to stay at my street..
I dressed into my pajamas, and then thought one more time, the beggar had a right to live, didn't he? I thought for a little bit, this beggar pony, had every right to stay in this little block, for how did I earn my right to stay at this place? I kept thinking on the situation, looking back at the window to see the old pony, I kept glancing at my old enemy, who turned from bankrupt into a poor, if this man I left deserted wasn't noble in my view, who was? No one in life was noble, only the ones who think they are noble.
I jumped from bed, and went down the stairs of the hut, I went outside in the night, and looked both ways before crossing the street, for carriages go like mad in the road..
I went over to him and then felt a desire to help him, I put a 100 coin bill on his lap, as he slept, making sure the money was in a bag, so no one would try to steal it from him...
Even though I had no love for this poor pony, at that moment, it struck me, it seemed that helping a poor soul was the right thing to do in this world, life had to change and the only way for it to change is to see the story from both views.
Our family arguments might be incapable and unbearable to see two families helping each other out, but in my view, I think that helping your enemy is the right thing to do, only if you see the two sides fairly, and then make the judgement..
That was the start of realizing that helping someone was better than keeping a possession, or merely helping a poor soul out..
When I heard the news that my mother was quite ill, I rushed to their house, and knocked on the door.
I went through the hallway, wondering, worried, what could have happened, how could I lose someone so fast, maybe without time to say goodbye?
I thought fast, I tried to find a way not to admit this, trying not to want to face this, how could she be dying? Possibly, dying that is..
I didn't really how to react to this, how are you? You okay? Don't go? Hold on? The questions didn't seem to match of how I was feeling..
How could I lose someone so fast? When I only knew her for 18 years in my life? Which is long, but she might not be a grandmother then to my children, she may not be alive to see her daughter grow up!
But, what if she was okay? If she survived, I would have been real thankful for that too have happened.
I came to the door, and quietly peaked in, not wanting to, but actually rather being forced to look into the room, I felt a shiver enter my spin as I saw the bedroom.
Coughs of pain, coughs of utter pain, she gasped for breath, and gasped more, struggling to find air, struggling to keep her lungs going on...
She coughed blood, and blood was splattered over her beautiful white pajama shirt, and to see her in that much pain, was too much, I had to face it though, and I couldn't run away..
''Mother?'' I asked softy..
''Daughter?'' She managed to say.
''Hey...'' I said. ''I-I...''
There was a moment of a pause, and I felt a sort of a song coming into my voice, a soothing song that would help this case of Tuberculosis, to help my sick mother.
Life may seem very tough
I know you want to
Get rid of this pain
But it will not right away
But I can help you
I will bring some
Love and comfort
Is the best cure of all
Use my love as a
Bed for your tired body
Let me bring you
Food and some drinks that you enjoy
Because being separated
From god, or from the feeling of being normal
Is the most painful thing to do
All you need to do is rest,
And try to enjoy life for what is,
And slowly fall asleep
She slowly fell asleep, and I looked at her, not knowing what to do, but just stood there, thinking of how life should be enjoyed, and that life should never be thought of as bad, to think of the good even though all seems lost is life, for life may seem tough and death may be what you would like, but there's always some happiness, it might be very small, it might be very tiny, you might not even think of it right away, but it is there, and will always be there..
I left the room slowly, and closed the door, for I hoped all would be well, in the morning, for I had not lost hope..
But the words of encouragement now seem to only been my mother's last hearing of a poem in her life, as the news came in the morning that she has sailed away to heaven, and is riding the winged horse's chamber, and will be resting upon the clouds..
