What fortress is made of glass?
I see you, child. You think you are shattered. You have fought and cowered, chased and fled, stood up and been run down.
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I have watched you, child. Watched you weep, wail, grieve and grovel. You think you are shattered.
But I know you, child. Your heart is a fortress, its walls thick. It has taken the beatings, the stones, the insults. It is injured, in places, the walls blackened or cracked or broken.
What fortress is made of glass?
You are not glass, to be shattered. You are not stone, to be cracked. You are young wood, to bend and flex and grow. What is cut away is not lost; it will grow back. Do not think of yourself as glass.
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