Something I wrote a year and a half ago and recently unearthed. I still feel the same way.
I’ve been wondering about this for years now(Rather presumptuously,I must admit). The age-old question.Do I want children,do I not want children? And somehow,I’ve come to the conclusion I’d rather not have them.Initially it was the fear of childbirth.Purely the physical trauma. Then I considered adopting.You know,giving an unloved child,uncared for in the truest sense of the word,abandoned at its weakest,a home.Food.Clothing.And what is most important to ME,love.
I’ve been volunteering at orphanages since I was about 11,working with my friends’ parents,and then at school,and every birthday,for about 6 years,I made it a point to take clothes that had gotten small for me washed,cleaned,and repaired if they were damaged,down to the orphanage.And when I handed over that bag,and the clothes were given out,boy, the looks on their faces. Indescribable happiness.I felt so fortunate then,to have a roof over my head,food to eat,and clothes to wear.
And still somehow I crave more…
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