Diana Leaney López Ruano

In the Japanese language there is no future tense.  To ask about the future,  one would say something along the lines of "From this time after,  where are you currently going?"  The respondee will then answer with what they will do after the current time. In the Mandarin Chinese language,  there is no future or past tense.  When I introduce myself to a Chinese person I usually say a translation of "I am an English teacher at China."   Obviously we are not in China at the moment so to make the statement true,  a past or present time frame must be inferred. How would we speak if we had no future or past? If we did not know who we are becoming or where we came from? If we all hustled around in right now , not then , or when  we would simply be ;  culture and history-  it would all cease to be.  What if we had no means to change our ways;  if we were permanently stuck in our current decisions,  without a chance of leaving the past and starting a new day? I h

She showed me a new cut on her already scarred,  rough,  and beat up hand. It was deep and infected.  Not because a dirty weapon ripped her flesh,  but because she always seemed to find herself too busy to stop and disinfect the gash. "I like your hands."  I said to her. She didn't listen. "If I had your hands it would mean that I know how to do things."  I said to her. She didn't listen. Instead,  she wished aloud for prettier hands,  delicate hands.  She yearned for a manicure that would dissolve the need to work her hands to the bone in order to provide for her family.  Instead, she got Bella's five-year-old five fingers adding five layers of whatever nail polish colors picked her fancy.   Pink.  Blue.  Shiny.  Purple.  More pink. One thing is certain-  my mother's multi-colored manicured hands can do anything. Her hands alter clothes.  Her hands bake and decorate cakes.  Her hands work power tools.  Her hands build,  paint,  tickle,

I wonder if Jesus Christ ever fell in love. I wonder if once upon a time there was a little Jewish girl that broke His heart because Jesus would rather spend time in the temple discussing with the educated instead of playing outside with the other kids. He is The Son of God,  that is a fact.  I just wonder... if He ever fell down and needed the man that raised Him to take His hand,  lift Him up,  and dust off the wood chips from His shins. I wonder what Jesus Christ thinks each time I fall in love.  I wonder if He smiles to Himself and shakes His head thinking,   "I know,  I know.  Just try again nena,  you'll get it eventually."  I wonder if He constantly sees me as the weak child that I am,  or if every so often He looks past my mistakes to the woman I may become through His Atonement. I wonder if I'll ever make it.  I wonder if I'll ever be more than this-  worldly,  pathetic,  vain,  lost.  I wonder just how often my frailties will stand in my way. I