Page 16 of Pride
mine.”
He paused. We all paused. His words cut so deep.
“Single mothers.
Single fathers.
Families on the bread line.
But they make it matter.
They make it count.
They won’t ever define,
themselves by money or what they own.
Pride lives in their heart.
A jewel that’s home grown.
You see, pride doesn’t mean the same for all.
Pride doesn’t always come after a fall.
You can find it in the little things.
It’s there every day.
In a smile, a thank you, a tear you wipe away.
When the gift you bestow on others
is a word of kindness or encouragement.
That means the fucking world when all their life they’ve lived with discouragement.
The smallest gesture that tells someone theyfuckingmatter.
Pride is not the things you have, it’s the latter.
The family you cherish,
the things we create.
The art.
The music.
The food we ate.
The words we write.
The stories we tell.
The fights we fight.
The ways we excel.
