The Wall

I love walls with stories. Yes, stories. Pictures, photos, paintings, drawings, artwork, symbols: they make the walls alive. I love colors on the walls. They stimulate my brain. I love music coming from walls, they excite my heart.

Yes, walls are just walls. But if these walls have ears, then they could be telling us stories that make us laugh with joyful tears, stories that make us cry with heavy yet happy hearts, stories that make us wonder as our minds wander.

I had lived a life with walls. Back then it seemed scary. I thought my life would just be within those walls. I thought that I would die one day without being able to break those walls.

But I was mistaken. My life is more precious than those walls. There will always come a moment when those walls will just break down. Freedom!

Yesterday I was talking to a student and I was asking her about school. She said, “Oh, this is already my second to the last day of our final exams. After this, it would be ‘Freedom!'”

Sometimes or perhaps oftentimes, we are in situations that limit us and make us feel as though we are in a walled city. I don’t like to be in that, too. But sometimes, those walls are there to make you a better person. The walls may be limiting you in terms of space so that while you are there, you can creatively dream of a better you.

When I was in my “walled world,” I always tell myself, “One day, when these walls will break, I will travel to faraway places and see the rest of the world.” That kept me going and that gave me the inspiration to persevere in that “walled world” of mine.

Prayer broke the walls. Prayer gave me my freedom. Prayer led me to my inspiration to learn the pages of the book of life through my travels. No more walls! And freedom is sweet because I earned it through hardship and perseverance.