I'm waiting for one of our oldest friends to visit - we were in Mum's group together when Miss G was born and her Master I. She didn't like me back then, said I was a 'goody-two shoes' and too sweet to be her friend, we kept crossing paths - and became great friends.
It got me thinking about what people perceive of me. Some don't care. I find it quite interesting. Do my beliefs make those around me judge me. Does my quiet voice add to the puzzle. Everyone has a story. It is that, that I love. Do you see what I see? Have you felt what I've felt? All very philosophical I know - but we all have a story. Mine has made me who I am; quiet voice and all, believer and all.
Love Rach xx