“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view.” – Atticus Finch
On a lazy Sunday afternoon you’d never expect to be completely transported to another time, another place. A place wrought with racial injustices and social tensions. Where a man is not judged by the content of his character, but judged with deep seeded bigotry by the color of his skin. Common respect and decency is discarded in this era, because of fear.
It’s a simple word. Only three letters long but because of it there are endless possibilities and connections which can resonate within us all. Joy can come in many forms. It can be the first time you view a beautiful sunrise. It can be your first time you hear powerful melodies in a piece of music. It can be the roar of a stadium full of people cheering their team. It can be meditative. It can be silent. In this case joy is simply a single picture, this picture, a beautiful rose in bloom.