In a small town, the difference between Us and Them is very clear.’ How I wanted to be one of Us.’ Not one of Them.’ We teetered on the brink of the dividing line, and toppled over to join Them.’ Even so, I did’nt want to accept it.’ Or believe it. So I went out and made my own way.’ And I did okay.’ I am the Empress.’ And I’m wearing new clothes.
A tired, dilapidated old town.’ Depressed and weary.’ Shanties and shacks.’ How different it is to look through grown up eyes.’ How near sighted I was as a youth.’ I only saw that we were the poor people; the ragged band of barbarians that we were.’ No running water.’ Filth.’ I was so ashamed of so many things.’ I didn’t notice that we weren’t the only ones.’ (We probably were the only ones without water.)’ We were not the only shack dwellers.’ We were not alone in poverty.’
I have alot to say about Us and Them.’ Most of the time I’m not one of Them anymore.’ Sometimes when I’m melancholy, I find myself back on the other side of the tracks.’ I have to remind myself that it’s my choice, who I am, in my heart of hearts.’ I can be who I want to be.’ I can be who I choose to be. I am who I choose to be.’ I need to choose to be cheerful and bright, light and kind, gracious and loving.’ Those are all daily choices, moment by moment.’
Time spans the distance between Us and Them.’ Sometimes the Usses become Thems and the Thems become Usses.’ It mystifies me, when an Us become a Them.’ I wonder how they could let it happen, when it looked like they were the ones with the easy path.
