Beautiful
I am beautiful . Everyone sees it – as a matter of fact , that is all they see in me . My encounters with the broad , colorful , endlessly-varying spectrum of humanity are a solid , dull , pinkish rainbow of stares , whispers , starstruck compliments , and open lust . Certainly they express it differently ; one man told me that I must be Aphrodite , for my beauty is divine , and no woman in all the world can match it . Another said that I must be Pandora reborn , for my body , with all its curves and grooves and perfect symmetry , is crafted with such perfect seduction that it must be the work of the gods . A third said that I must be Artemis , for to see me nude would be a crime punishable by death . These are kind words , and I am grateful . But it all blends together after a while . You are beautiful . You are pretty . You are gorgeous . You are beautiful . You are beautiful . I am beautiful . I wonder , sometimes , if that is all I am . One day I met an old woman wavering at the edge of a rushing river .
Author : Cormac Kaplan Flint Hill School 10th Grade
Though she was heavy indeed , I lifted her up , and placed her on my shoulders , and carried her across the river . A few times I almost fell over , but I did not , though I did lose one of my sandals . When I set her down on the other side , she looked me in the eyes , smiled , and said , “ You are a beautiful girl indeed .” I watched her totter away , and I was grateful . But I remembered the story of another young person , a young man , who carried an old woman across the river and because of it became one of the greatest heroes to ever live .