What Beauty Have I?

I saw an old man today, headed to listen to a concert. He stopped me and asked if I were going with him, which I found peculiar. He then attempted to persuade me to join him, at one point asking where my beauty came from. Confused and freezing, I replied "I don't know." He looked at me and said, "You don't have any beauty in your life, then?" I was shocked by the statement. And though I joke with my friends about the loony old man, the straightforwardness of his statement has me thinking. What about my life is so beautiful? I certainly wish the old man hadn't caught me so off guard, because I do have beauty in my life--and a lot, at that. I get my beauty from the snowflakes, falling to the ground. The stars that light the sky at night, the clouds that shades the world to my eyes. The friends that surround me with love and care, the aspirations that fill the void in my life and how to get there. The number of breaths I take, the tears that stream down my face, the smiles that light the room, the laughter that spreads so soon. The days that I've tread, the numbers passing in my head, the songs that I've sung, each meaning more than the last one.

You see, old man, you find beauty in the symphony, the arts and the extravagance. I, on the other hand, find the beauty in my every day, the way I live and the things that I encounter throughout my lifetime. I wish more than anything that I could have shared this with you, old man. I would have liked to see what you thought about the youth you're so concerned about. I understand that you lumped me with every other young, immature, uneducated child. I could tell in the way you spoke that you believed me to be nothing more than another individual in a lost generation. I don't appreciate how quickly you judged, old man. What I do appreciate, however, is the reminder you gave me. You see, old man, you reminded me what misconceptions still remain in this world. Even in a college, there are still stereotypes. And you see, old man, I appreciate your attempt to reach out to me. Though your fashion was peculiar, and certainly caught me off guard, it reminded me that I have to prove myself to the world before they'll take a look at me for who I am.

Those who know me, know me. They see that I have the intellect of an adult with the attitude of a child. But I have to prove myself to be the person I know I am to everyone else. I have to show that I can be responsible and young-hearted at the same time. And I will never fully escape society's standards, because to have any impact in society--I must first be accepted. All of this has come from a brief conversation with an old man who wanted me to join him for Handel's Messiah. Thank you, sir.