Quoting
eliziada:
There was once a little girl who was born with the right sized hands. She didn't know that her hands were great. She was too small to know anything. The girl's mother was sorry. One day, there was a neighbor of visits and the mother trusted herself: 'I am so sorry to have two such different girls. The oldest is normal and look beautiful. The youngest is abnormal, please try to see for yourself how ugly she looks!' said mother and pointed to the smallest of the girls.
The neighbor looked on and laughed:'Your little girl looks just fine. Yes, she has great hands. But, where is it nice, that she has such great hands! When she will grow up with the big hands, she will help you in the House, she could do and clear a lot of things.You will be very proud of her'
This is the story of the girl with the big hands. Sartre had no knowledge of her, the time he saw the existence through a tree. He saw only that: you cannot say to a tree, be tree! When the tree cannot be other than it is.
But the little girl grew and found out about Sartre. She thought about, whether he thought, that things are designed to be viewed from a particular direction. Now, take for example a beautiful lady, with high tails and a large and sophisticated hat that goes trip on pedestrian zone. Viewed from the front, she sees to be elegant. Seen from the roof of a high building, she sees out ridiculous.
It is me who is the girl with the big hands. My hands look not so great out longer, I have grown up and collected the proportions. But my mother's neighbor was only sweet and lovable, she had no right. 'quantity do never quality'- Kierkegaard- There are so many things I can't with my hands.
I always look at other people's hands and try to see what they tell. I also like to listen to what people are telling. But the hands tells from a different direction for a while. They are less selective. They can prove to be ridiculous and elegant at the same time. They can be industrious and lazy. The inviting and denies, or says, that they do not want to say anything. Silent hands ...
I have even visited a lady in old people's homes. She was completely paralysed from neck to toe. But she could speak and she was fresh in spirit. Her hands were as a tree, which has gone into winter time. Life in them was away and without hope for a new season. The hands have done their duty and met the goal of their existence. The kind of hands you have respect for. For their humility and waiting time, where silence is only in the company of life, wich pass away only enter the body.
There are hands that laugh and play, no matter how you look at them from. Childhood hands. If they shouts and pushes away, they do not know even why? Later, when they grow up, They will tell like shells, only when you hold them on your ear, very close to your understanding.
Of all hands, grateful hands are similar closest trees.. They are hands that gives, without being open.
In fact, they look as if they are closed, like a bowed head in a prayer.
There was once a little girl who was born with the right sized hands. She didn't know that her hands were great. She was too small to know anything. The girl's mother was sorry. One day, there was a neighbor of visits and the mother trusted herself: 'I am so sorry to have two such different girls. The oldest is normal and look beautiful. The youngest is abnormal, please try to see for yourself how ugly she looks!' said mother and pointed to the smallest of the girls.
The neighbor looked on and laughed:'Your little girl looks just fine. Yes, she has great hands. But, where is it nice, that she has such great hands! When she will grow up with the big hands, she will help you in the House, she could do and clear a lot of things.You will be very proud of her'
This is the story of the girl with the big hands. Sartre had no knowledge of her, the time he saw the existence through a tree. He saw only that: you cannot say to a tree, be tree! When the tree cannot be other than it is.
But the little girl grew and found out about Sartre. She thought about, whether he thought, that things are designed to be viewed from a particular direction. Now, take for example a beautiful lady, with high tails and a large and sophisticated hat that goes trip on pedestrian zone. Viewed from the front, she sees to be elegant. Seen from the roof of a high building, she sees out ridiculous.
It is me who is the girl with the big hands. My hands look not so great out longer, I have grown up and collected the proportions. But my mother's neighbor was only sweet and lovable, she had no right. 'quantity do never quality'- Kierkegaard- There are so many things I can't with my hands.
I always look at other people's hands and try to see what they tell. I also like to listen to what people are telling. But the hands tells from a different direction for a while. They are less selective. They can prove to be ridiculous and elegant at the same time. They can be industrious and lazy. The inviting and denies, or says, that they do not want to say anything. Silent hands ...
I have even visited a lady in old people's homes. She was completely paralysed from neck to toe. But she could speak and she was fresh in spirit. Her hands were as a tree, which has gone into winter time. Life in them was away and without hope for a new season. The hands have done their duty and met the goal of their existence. The kind of hands you have respect for. For their humility and waiting time, where silence is only in the company of life, wich pass away only enter the body.
There are hands that laugh and play, no matter how you look at them from. Childhood hands. If they shouts and pushes away, they do not know even why? Later, when they grow up, They will tell like shells, only when you hold them on your ear, very close to your understanding.
Of all hands, grateful hands are similar closest trees.. They are hands that gives, without being open.
In fact, they look as if they are closed, like a bowed head in a prayer.
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