Wrinkles

Wrinkles are by nature repulsive to most of us when our eyes fall on an old man and woman. We find them more horrendous the moment we observe them growing on every corner of our faces. It is not long ago when a female, old beggar came to the cafe where I frequently sit, and she began to beg for money.

The only thing I was transfixed by was the wrinkles that had covered her face. I frankly fell in love with them simply because in them, I saw the beauty of leading a meaningful life, the wonderful moments she had during her childhood, and the amazing willingness to confront obstacles until she became what she was the day I saw her. In them, I could see that she had once loved with an unrequited love, that she had traveled long tracks to pay her dear friends visits, and that she had learned that life without risks was worth nothing.

I could also see that she had got married to a cruel man whose family tortured her with taunting words. I could see that if she had not been barren, she would have raised generations and wrinkles of this sort would not have formed. At the time, the aged woman was a carrying a crutch and a bundle on her back. I could then see that her wrinkles formed rapidly after she had worked day and night to serve herself.

I could then see in those wrinkles that many chaste kisses fell on her face as a child. I could then see that life had been hard to her and at the same time it had taught her never to yield in order to live. She resisted hardship and went to ask of all diners in the cafe. Her wrinkles proved to me that she was not like any other simple woman.

Her Wrinkles showed to me that welfare were not the key to her longevity. Experiences of different sorts which tore her body apart, including her wrinkles mainly made it clearer for me that her soul was healthy and insurmountable. If only I could have a soul like hers.