I am like a flower that withers away.
A dust with the breath of God resident in it
A passer by; 
a traveler sojourning planet earth 
looking for the meaning of her existence.
One day I’ll return home to my father.
What legacy would I leave behind to prove that I lived, 
I was here, 
I mattered, 
and I made a difference?
Every day, this question looks me in the face.
It drives me to go into the world and make an impact.
It removes the beam of laziness from my eyes,
bringing to mind that I do not control the number of my days.
It guides me into writing a document 
my descendants will cherish and hold in their hearts and hands 
And know that I was here,
I lived,
I mattered,
And I made a difference,
Finally, It makes me see LIFE as fragile; 
that I should make it worthwhile.



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