She stares at her blank canvas in front of her, the paintbrush still in her small hands. She wanted to capture something beautiful, something that struck the hearts of all that saw. She could paint of the bloody corpses that lay on the side of the dusty road, or the faces of the thousands of murdered women in the war-ridden countries, or the tears of the young kids that were not yet adults that threatened to fall into oblivion or of the small boys who hold guns larger than themselves. People who saw these moments captured in photographs called them beautiful, but they were also called tragic. The people who called these moments beautiful were the ones who took a step back and watched, as war tore apart families, as murderers hid their bodies and watched as the world went down into flames. These people make up most of the world around us, they are the politicians that swore to fight for the children screaming through the gunfire, but never do, they are the world leaders that promise to change the world, but never do, and lastly, they are ourselves- we hope and dream that something will change when we ourselves don’t take any action.
And as the children scream and as the bombs fall onto homes, we take a step back and watch, secretly thanking the gods that it wasn’t us. There is a small portion of the world who are different than the rest of us, the girl with the paintbrush calls them the fighters. They are the soldiers who leave their homes and promise to change something, they are the girls in war-ridden countries who stand up for their own education and sometimes they are ourselves, the part of us who do not stand there to hope and dream and instead take action to destroy what destroys us. But there is one reason why only a small part of the world are fighters, fighters will always fall. And it’s because of this risk of falling that people are terrified to fight. But there is something special about the Fighters, they have flame inside their heart than keeps on burning, they have a will to keep on fighting for change in this world, they have a fire that the people who stand back and watch don’t have. And even if they fall, the flame will continue to burn on forever, igniting the hearts of people all around them.
The girl has decided, she will no longer paint of the fallen, she will no longer paint the bloody corpses on the road, she will not paint of the murdered children in their homes. But instead, she will paint of the fighters, the families of the murdered that hold back their tears as they fight for justice to be won, the small boys who would rather fight with a pencil than a gun, the soldiers who fight to keep their countries safe, and the girls who speak up against violence even if someone put a bullet in their head. And although there are many beautiful things she could paint, the girl with the paintbrush know that the people who continue to fight for a change in this world, are the most beautiful things of all.
And as we take a step back and watch, as the world goes up in flames, not knowing that one day, the people who will go up in flames will be ourselves.
