Beauty is But Skin Deep
My mother would say this to us whenever we criticized some else’s looks. She’d say to us that none of us were ‘oil paintings’ which was her way of saying we were not perfect.
It’s always been something that has stayed with me.
We live in a world where beauty is thrust at us in all its forms. Human beauty is magnificent in its many forms, from the smallest child to the oldest person whose attitude to life and inner vitality shines through.
We wander around our respective worlds and see the beauty nature affords us in the myriad of shapes and colours, formations and configurations only it is capable of.
It would be good to think that we could appreciate the beauty around us, not do what so many do and pass judgement on others, criticize looks and cultural ties, persecute religions and believe ignorance is the way to go.
When everything around us is so immediate it’s not hard to see why the less informed jump to conclusions based on prejudice as that seems the sensationalist way to go.
But for me beauty is skin deep and many a person I have come across as not being glamorous or handsome or whatever marker we use to estimate a person’s worth, has turned out to be salt of the earth, invaluable as a friend and neighbor.