NOTE: This is more of a devotional mixed in with a story.
She used to sit in the corner where the crack in the wall was the largest and where the moss seemed much taller than in any other part of the building. They would walk by and scoff at this young girl's marks. Marks that held a history only she knew. But visible nonetheless. They made her a pariah to all who laid eyes on her.
Especially the reverend down the street who, years ago, denied her as his daughter. He knew her secret, but, was too embarassed at what happened to her to relate himself to her existence. So, he emancipated himself from her.
A sad but true legacy of mankind, a true legacy of neglect for those who have graduating marks set in place by those who walk by and walk on. The angels cry with broken wings, and still she chooses to sing, she chooses to still love those who love to hate her.
Her father has learned to beckon the brokenhearted, but not those broken by society.
She walked on and moved on, her marks still remain. Deeper and deeper they grow as you walk on by. As we walk on by. The very thing Christ calls us to do, we fail everyday as we toss up a coin and a prayer and walk on by.