With all the changes that life exacts from a person, one wonders who he or she truly is.  It seems that we are pushed to bend and mold to so many situations and different people, so many styles to live a life.  I have changed so many times, and tried to maintain an "open mind" to everyone's particular ways.  I keep assuming they need to have the freedom to live their own way, set their own standards of morals and beliefs, determine their own direction, and be the sole creators of their stories. 

I have seen the strict life of giving your utmost to living as near perfect as possible, and I've seen the lives of slack driven by violence, drugs, poverty and professed "fun".  I've not been that far on the spectrum, yet I have seen my own morals and values slide up and down the scale depending on whom I try to adapt to.  Being friends with some requires accumulation of their own ideas on how life ought to be faced.  Funny thing is that you get to a point where you can see, understand, and even almost agree with every aspect of others' perspectives, even if they're completely against what you've always believed.  I may not take on those beliefs, but I can see where they come from, understand why it is so, and therefore cease to oppose it.
So then the question arises, what is it that I believe?  Putting aside my ability to understand all other options, what do I chose to accept as my belief system, my moral scale, and my way of life?  What things will I not do even if I can comprehend the logic (or lack thereof) behind it?

When a chameleon changes colors for every background, trying to blend in to every situation, does it lose it's own true color?  Does it forget what color it was born or merely choose to be a different one?  If someone were to wear a mask long enough, would they become the face imprinted on that mask?  Would they inherit the charateristics of the personality portrayed?  If you constantly try to please people and do things their way, think or even live their ways, do you become something different than what you are, and if so, is it better or worse that where you started?  Would the painted face be happier blending in, or showing it's true self despite standing out?

What is it about little kids that changes us?  They seem to come into life with such a sweetness and innocence that can't be described.  They bring a light with them, adventure, simplicity, and an ability to love without reservation.  They do the silliest things and find delight in random and plain things.  They aren't yet tainted by pain, revenge, time and schedules, lost opportunities, regret, forgotten dreams and the evils in the world.  To them the world is a gigantic jungle gym of games and amazing options.  They are full of ideas about how it could be and hopes and dreams to be fulfilled.  They can be repetitive to the point of insanity, loud and occasionally obnoxious, rude and incessantly inquiring. Nonetheless, we generally put up with all their quirks understanding that they have no idea how annoyed we become and that they aren't purposely pushing our buttons.  Sometimes they ask big questions or make such important comments and then you suddenly realize the wisdom of a child.  

Sometimes on the streets, in the stores, in the busiest places you might see the old and hardened faces of those who've been pushed to the end of their ropes, but then a little one might pass them by, or stop to say something that brightens their eyes and softens the face, and brings a smile.  I think God needed to send the world the miracle of children to brighten our lives and remind us of the simple and optimistic side of life.  He wants to give us untainted eyes to glance through from time to time, and a chance to refresh our hopes and dreams.  What better way to ease the burdens of the world but to give us little burdens that help lighten the load?