So, I paint my nails pretty regularly these days. I also work as a barista/cashier pretty regularly these days. A few weeks back, I had a customer come in, a fairly typical, sheltered, suburban soccer mom, and she ordered a latte from me. She saw my brightly colored nails and said, “Wow, you’re so brave! My son asked me about painting his nails, and if it’s okay for boys to do that. Now I’ll tell him there’s a cool guy who does it too!” It was a nice moment, very cute.
Then, last week, she came in again, and said, “Hey, I’m so glad you’re here! I want you to meet someone!” She then brings her son forward, and says, “Okay sweetie, show him what you did!” And he throws his hands up, showing off his bright, sparkling blue nails. He shows them off, and I show mine off to him. He smiles. We fist bump.
Guys, I’ve only wanted to cry once at work before, and that was when someone ordered a large dry soy cappuccino on ice.
This time, though. This was a good cry.
I DID THIS IM VERY PROUD OF IT YOU KNOW WHY
WAIT FOR IT
EOF THE RINGSBut every day’s likeGold ring, greybeard, trippin’ on the mushroomsBlood-mad Nazgul trashin’ the hotel roomWe don’t careWe got to Rivendell across the streamAnd everybody’s likeMountains, dwarf mines, presents from the Elf QueenRowboats, rock paths, Gollum on a rope leashWe don’t careYeah we’re simply gonna walk in there
Cuz we’re going to Moooooordor
I’m reblogging this again because I love the message behind it and I think it needs to be passed on.
My mother let us choose. My brother and I decided that religion just wasn’t for us. She reacted neutrally and we were not baptised, nor did we make our first holy communion.
My sister chose religion. She woke my mum up every Said “its time to go to church”. She was baptised at 8 years old when she was able to do it for herself, read the relevant parts herself, and knew the choices she was making rather than it being made for her. And she was so happy. Religion should be a choice, and one that you are fully consenting and happy to make.
She’s now 12 and she still has the cross that was a gift at her baptism above her bed, and still reads her little bible from time to time. She doesn’t attend church any more, because she doesn’t feel that church is necessary to have a god.
I am an atheist, as I have stated. But I’m here for her if she ever wants to talk to me about her religion and all things associated.
That is how religion should be. For everyone.
This is such a beautiful message.