By Julia Rohrabaugh

Children are taught graffiti is vandalism. The beauties of graffiti and the possibility for it to be an encouraging tool is washed out by its more common occurrences of destruction. Exploring new places, specifically the urban scene, awakens people to the power of street art. When they’re taking a morning commute every day on the bus in downtown LA, staring listlessly outside the window, bored and unexcited about heading to work. The urban landscape seems barren at times, when the stores are closed and gated, and people are tucked away in their job offices or home nooks. However, in this monochromatic scene with dull paint chipping away at the curbs, cars parked on the street and in between, there is a painted box on the corner of somewhere and 6^th street. There is a white face on the side with sunglasses on, and when the bus stops at a red light just close enough, the rider can read: “Thieve the world; dispense only the good,” signed by Megzany.

This quote seen by probably thousands of people every day, causing hundreds to ponder the meaning, tens to tell their friends about it, and changes maybe one. Influencing people every day, or maybe only every week, nevertheless with words on a utility box. How come this isn’t what children are taught?

Lost Love

By Michael Armijo

I stood there in the courtyard, and waited.  Her little eyes, her bright smile, her warm hugs…I was waiting for them all.  It would be just a few minutes before that bell would ring, it would be just a few minutes before my little love of life would run out smiling, wrapping her arms around me proclaiming, “Daddy, I love you.”

The bell rang and I stood there.  I watched; I waited.  I sought her out, but she didn’t show.  Hundreds of kids ran by and I made eye contact with each and every one of them.  There wasn’t a chance that she would’ve gotten by me.  My mind knew what she looked like, what she resembled, and all her characteristics.  I was like a machine, scanning the crowd, like a robot with a mission.  I was waiting for someone who made my life complete, who I had given my heart to, who I trusted with my feelings, my spirit, my life.

After most of the children passed me by, I felt a sensation of panic.  I felt a sense of fear.  I was afraid that I had lost one of the only people in life that I knew loved me, unconditionally, and now, who would be there in the end?

When I felt that panic, when I felt the fear of losing someone I really loved, I wondered why. Why did I feel so fearful?  Why was I so afraid?  Why did I feel such a sense of panic?  And then I remembered what had happened.

I remembered my mother, my father, my family.  I remembered how much they loved me, how they took care of me.  I remembered giving my 8-year old heart to those who I thought I could trust.  I remembered how one day my life changed.  I still don’t recall how, and I still can’t understand why, but for some strange reason, when I was growing up my life was filled with love and joy, and then one day it was all taken away.  All that I knew as a child, all that I trusted, was ripped from my heart, and then ripped from my soul.  And no one explained why.

After the inconsistency of that environment, I found new love from girlfriends in high school.  And then they too, like my family, left me, and took parts of my heart with them.  I remember, at 16 years of age, standing in the aisle of Sav-on, stocking shelves, while tears poured from my eyes.  I was hurt, I was devastated, and I was alone. Again, someone whom I had given my heart to had taken away a piece of my inner self.  And again, they left without a word.

It took so long for me to love again, to fully trust people, but somehow I did. I began to give my heart, or what was left of it, to others whom I felt I could trust.  I slowly began to rebuild my life, or so I thought.

The way I felt that day so many years ago when I couldn’t find my daughter, when that sleeping giant of fear woke up and looked around – I remembered the pain, and the sorrow and I remembered how much love hurt.  I guess that when I waited for her, those feelings of abandonment returned, and I was afraid of losing yet another love in my life.  I didn’t have much heart left to lose; I couldn’t stand to go through what I had experienced so many times, and so many years ago.  But I faced those demons of fear and abandonment and grew from my pain.  I simply refused to let my past interfere with my future.  I had worked too hard to let irresponsible acts of yesterday interfere with what I had built for today. That day, I found my daughter, and I faced my fears.

As each day passes, I thank God for the opportunity to feel feelings and emotions that some people will never feel.  I thank God for being able to enjoy my life with a smile and a hug.  More importantly, I thank God for allowing me to understand that someday I may lose the ones I love, but not to fear, because today is the day I will enjoy their presence, their love, and their joy.  And when they’re gone, I will still make wonderful memories, so that I can remember that God has given me a beautiful place in my soul – free from past pain, free from fear and abandonment, and free from lost love.

By Sarah Sanchez

I went on a mission trip to Haiti with a team a few years ago, and the team and I always talk about how much we miss Haiti. But I think it’s strange that we’re talking about how much we miss a Third World country, where people live in poverty and barely have enough food to eat. The other day, I really thought about what it was that I missed about Haiti and the first thing that popped into my head was the people.

The Haitian people who lived in the villages were always so friendly to us. They would wave at us as we walked by, have us hold their children, or ask us to pray with them. They were welcoming everywhere we went. They treated us as if we were family, even though we were strangers who didn’t even speak their language.

The Haitian children were a whole new level of friendly. Whenever we had an opportunity to play with the children, my arm would end up being tired from holding so many of them and my legs would be tired from running around with them the entire day. At one point, I had a little over ten children surrounding me, each fighting to hold my hand, trying to play with my hair, trying on my sunglasses, asking me questions in Creole or doing anything to get my attention. The funny part was that as soon as I turned around to look at them, they would give me the biggest smile. The love they showed us was truly remarkable.

It wasn’t until we were back in a United States airport that I realized how different Haiti was. The moment I realized we weren’t in Haiti anymore was the moment I turned to say “Bonswa” (meaning hello in Creole) to someone, and I didn’t see a smiling face like I was used to in Haiti.

It’s amazing to think that I miss a country where we didn’t have any electricity, where we didn’t have clean water, where we barely had enough food, and where  I’ve sweated more than I’ve sweated my entire life. But still, I have the urge to go back just so I can see those friendly faces and feel that special love all around me.

The question I found myself asking is: why do I have to go back to Haiti to feel this way? Why can’t I have that same feeling when I’m in my own hometown? Why can’t we be friendly to one another here? So I ask you to please help me spread love around the community. Say hi to one another, smile at each other, open doors, help with grocery bags, or carry out a simple act of kindness to show a stranger this love. As the years progress, I find the world becoming less civil. But who says we can’t change it? Let’s work together to make this world we live in a better place.

By Michael Armijo

I sat there on the brown, lacquered bar stool, with my arms on the counter, my face in my palms, and then the crowd walked in. Although there was a group of them, one stood out like a court jester on the royal throne. He was obviously the life of the party.

In a beat of the heart, I saw a reflection of myself as the loud, happy, party-goer. I remembered being that young man, feeling life on the edge, living with joyful enthusiasm. And then in another beat of the heart, I saw something else that scared the hell out of me. I saw a reflection of my son.

You see, the life I once lived, I am not proud. And I was scared for my son. I knew he would have to endure many of the emotions whose presence must move us. I knew he would have no choice but to learn many lessons the hard way. And I knew he would have to travel some paths that I too had to endure.

But I was still afraid. I didn’t want him to have to deal with the problems that I was exposed to: the adult decisions I made as a child; wandering through life guideless and fearful. To walk a path that my heart still refuses to acknowledge existed. I was afraid for him. Although he was older at the time, he was still my little boy.

I still remember how proud I was, when for the first time, he reached first base in Little League. I remember how I felt when he caught the winning pass during his first season of playing football. He is a grown man now, but I can still remember his tiny little smile, and his cute little “Ricky Ricardo” hair style. I can still remember his playful joy, and his childish, comedic grace. Always giggling, always dreaming of being a superhero – a Ninja Turtle, Batman, or Spiderman. The many Halloweens allowed him to be them all.

Although I miss those days, the days of holding him completely in my arms, I can still feel his childish warmth. My son makes me feel proud over and over again. His kindness, his joy, his talent, and most importantly, his gentle heart, brings waves of radiance that shine on my soul. He is not just my son, but the ray of light that come from his wonderful heart brings me all the light in the world. My son will always be the light in my life, because he will always be my ever-burning Sun.

By Michael Armijo

When I sat at my desk, I felt this uneasy queasiness overwhelm me. It was a nauseating feeling as though someone had kicked me in the stomach. Although the “beating” was over, I could still feel the soreness. It lingered as long as my failure to act lingered. I knew I had to march into that office and begin my new quest of pursuing my dream. But I just couldn’t do it that day, so I waited. And then I waited. Soon, the wait went from hours, to days, to weeks, to months, and then it finally went on for years. I was too fearful to leave. I was too afraid to pursue a career I’ve always dreamt about.
How many times have you heard or felt: “I just can’t do it, I’m too afraid”? How many times have you heard or said: “maybe someday, but not right now”? Or the worst feeling of all: “I just can’t love again because I’m afraid of being hurt.” Every time I hear those phrases, I have to ask, “When did I become so fearful that I just couldn’t make a move?”
I’m a firm believer in the philosophy that you can do whatever you want in life and that you can have whatever you desire. You can be whatever you want to be. A single emotion can hold many of us back (and has held me back many times), when fear interferes with a goal. Maybe it’s a desire. A passion. A dream. When fear takes hold of those things from your mind and cheats your heart, it can take things from your family as well.
My father claimed he was a cautious man, he did things what he SAID was out of caution. I believe it was completely out of fear. He set out to do many things but he never did, although he had the means to do so. He acted like a pauper, but he died with almost a million dollars in property.
You see, we have the confidence inside us; the confidence we’re born with. It’s a confidence we deserve. I believe when we carry this and our ability, we become whatever we want to become. But when fear overwhelms us, it starts to take control. You don’t take chances when you’re fearful and you don’t roll the dice. Instead, you let fear overpower and overcome that birth-given confidence. This is the time when you have hit a low in your life. This is a time when you paralyze yourself. A time you are actually standing still. Because this is the time when fear has become your master.

By Michael Armijo

It was a warm yet windy day filled with strong sorrow. The air reflected a deep sense of respect as people gathered to say goodbye to a friend whose spirit had left the earth.

As everyone gathered, the vibrant, wooden casket lay atop the ground as the family huddled closely around. The youngest, a young boy, gazed at the casket while tears flowed from his swollen eyes. He walked up and laid his cheek on the rigid, shiny, wooden box, as his white-gloved hands gently caressed the top of the last home his father’s body would ever have. He laid gentle kisses on the top of the casket, as his unconditional love was reflected in front of all those who watched. A gentle whisper was heard a row back; “Did you see that? How sad.”

When I heard those words, “how sad,” I felt something deep inside that disagreed; something that didn’t see the message of sadness when the boy showed his emotions. Instead, I saw an act of love. A love so strong, it displayed the true meaning of unconditional love; something deep inside that didn’t care if the world looked on or what people felt. This was a feeling of purity, of joy, and of strength.

I believe old proverbs and words of wisdom, and I believe we all see life in certain light, and sometimes, in certain darkness. I also believe that when we express the darkness, which surrounds our lives, it spreads like a contagious and cancerous disease. It attaches by simple contact, clings like a dependent child, while deteriorating in a short amount of time.

I’ve learned that opinions are only perceptions of a person’s immediate thinking, and reflections of someone’s inner self. What we see is usually what we feel, what we feel deep inside. Without realizing it, we express past experiences, deep histories, insecurities about our future, and we reflect the perception of our own lives.

I also believe that when we see life in its darkest hour, we have the opportunity to see life through the brightest light. For some, it’s a short path traveled to a place inside that holds our mind hostage from our heart. For others, it’s a level of confidence that sits deep within that’s been damaged by a careless act from an irresponsible adult.

I also believe that the true meaning of life can only be understood through beauty and joy that sits deep in our hearts. The vision of what will come can only be seen through the eyes of a believer of life. I feel the truest form of emotion can only be felt when a person can feel the presence of a higher power, a stronger entity, something or someone greater than themselves.

I understand that life is not always what it is expected to be. It changes moods like a spoiled child. But I also understand that life can be what we want it to be; all we have to do is apply our hearts in front of our minds. Following what we truly feel, not what we think we see, is the only way to put aside our petty angry thoughts and our insignificant bitterness. Because just as the young boy who helped bury his only father, the tears that flow from our swollen eyes are tears of love that can only be understood when beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

By Sarah Sanchez

The Bible describes a perfect woman in Proverbs 31. It describes a beautiful woman who cares for her family and teaches them about God. It describes a woman that is faithful and serves God with all of her heart, mind and soul, in addition to serving His people. A Proverbs 31 woman is described as someone who works hard and is smart with her money. In addition, the passage describes a woman who is “clothed with strength and dignity” (Proverbs 31:25). These are just a few of the many traits described in this passage.

When reading Proverbs 31, many women will strive to be this “perfect” woman and many men will strive to marry someone with these qualities. But when I read this passage, I instantly think of my mom. Of course, my mom isn’t perfect, but she is pretty close and she is truly a great role model. I believe she is a Proverbs 31 woman.

My mom cares and loves others, and she has taught me to do the same. Growing up, we would drive by a person living on the street and she would go out of her way to find the nearest drive-through, purchase food, and go back to give it to that person.

My mom is also a loving mother that has always cared for our family. Growing up, she would make our lunches everyday and put a heart shaped note inside that would tell us how much she loved us. She would pack us healthy snacks to take to school too. She still brings me snacks and lunch at work and I’m already a married adult! But she just has the gift of nurturing and loving others.

Proverbs 31 talks about this perfect woman being a woman of God; and man do I owe my faith to my mom. She would be the one to drag us out of bed for church every Sunday. Even when my brother and I went through a rebellious stage, she still prayed for us and sent us scripture (whether our punky teenager-selves wanted to hear it or not). She never gave up on us. I think it paid off because we were all baptized and are currently striving to live Godly lives. If it wasn’t for my mother constantly sharing her faith with us and believing in us, I’m not sure where we would all be.

My mom is a woman I admire and hope to be one day: both as a wife and mother. She is a strong woman who never loses faith in our God, no matter what circumstance we are going through. Growing up, I always believed she had a special direct line to God because her prayers were always answered. But really, it was because she had an enormous amount of faith and she truly believed that God would answer her prayers.

My mom is amazing and I’m sure yours is too; or maybe you know someone who has been like a mother to you. Whoever it may be, as we celebrate Mother’s Day this weekend I ask that you honor your mothers. Whether she is with you today or not, take a moment to remember all the good things that she has done for you…even if the only good thing is that she gave birth to you. Whatever it is, tell her, show her, write to her, and honor her. Because Proverbs 31:31 says, “Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.”

By Michael Armijo

One day, my friend told me a story about a freshman in high school named David that touched me so deeply. This is what I call, Redemption:

David saw a kid named Ron walking home from school.  It looked like Ron was carrying home all of his books, which was strange because classes aren’t all on the same day. He thought to himself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.” But he shrugged his shoulders and went on.

As he was walking, David saw a bunch of kids running toward Ron, knocking his books out of his arms and tripping him. Ron’s glasses went flying and landed in the grass. When David handed the glasses to him, he looked up he saw this terrible sadness in Ron’s eyes. Somehow he felt his pain.

David said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.”

Ron looked at him and lowly said, “Thanks.”

There was a slight smile on Ron’s face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.  David helped him pick up his books, and as it turned out, Ron lived near David.  They talked all the way home and Ron turned out to be a pretty cool kid.

Over the next four years, Ron and David became best friends. When they were seniors, they began to think about college. Ron decided on Georgetown, and David was going to Duke. They knew that they’d always be friends, and that the miles would never be a problem.

Ron became valedictorian of their class, and had to prepare a speech for graduation. David was so glad that he didn’t have to get up there and speak.

On graduation day Ron looked great.  He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. All the girls loved him. David was just jealous. He could see that Ron was nervous about his speech, so David smacked him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!” He looked at David with one of those looks (that really grateful one) and smiled.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began.

“Graduation is a time to thank those who have helped you make it through those tough years; your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach…but mostly, your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I’m going to tell you a story.”

David looked at his friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day they met. Ron talked of the day he had cleaned out his locker. He talked of how he was distraught about his life. He talked about how lonely he was. So lonely, he had planned to kill himself that weekend. But he didn’t, because his new friend unknowingly stepped in. He showed kindness. He showed compassion. He showed, by his actions, that life is worth the struggle. Ron looked hard at David and gave him a little smile.

“Thankfully, I was saved,” David continued. “My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.”

David heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told them about his weakest moment. He saw Ron’s mom and dad looking at him and smiling with that same grateful smile.  Not until that moment did David realize its depth.

It was then that David realized how important it is to never underestimate the power of one’s actions. With one small gesture you can change a person’s life – for the better, or for the worse.

The most compelling element about the story of Ron and David’s friendship is how it relates to so many lives. Personally, I’ve hoped that somewhere within my past that I’ve been a “David” to someone I’ve met. And what fills my spirit with even more emotion is that I know I’ve felt like a “Ron” many times.

What perplexes me is that I don’t know which role I’ve felt more often.

Someone once said, “Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.”

To so many, each day, this is true. I’ve always valued my friends with depth and sincerity. I’ve always believed in the importance of being friends, and the importance of having friends.

As the story continues, it emphasizes that there is no beginning or end. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. But today is a gift. This reminds me that giving the ultimate gift of friendship is what I call the inner spirit of your heart, and that gives us the true feeling of redemption.

By Sarah Sanchez

One day about a year ago, I told my dad that I had struggled with self-esteem issues. He was extremely shocked at my statement and he asked why I would feel this way because as he stated, “everyone loves me”. He went on to say that all his friends always compliment how wonderful I am. 

I thought it was interesting how my dad associated my self-esteem with the acceptance of others. If everyone loved me, then I should love myself right? This is the way we are trained to think: that the way we feel about ourselves should be based on if we’re accepted by others. 

I lived with this mentality growing up because I constantly compared myself to others. For example, if I see a beautiful woman with a thin waist, I’ll instantly wish I had a thin waist so I can look at beautiful as her. I think many of us compare ourselves like this. 

I’ve also noticed that when I go out with my group of girl friends, I’ll get more dressed up than I would if I went out with my husband. Why? Because if you’re in a group of women who are all wearing dresses and heels to dinner, you will feel compelled to wear a similar outfit so you can look just as nice as them. 

It’s sad that this way of matching others is the way many women (and even men) think today. It’s all about comparing ourselves with others because we care too much about what others think.

I struggled with these self-esteem issues for a while but I recently learned that there are actually two separate ideas: self-esteem and self-worth. Self-esteem is what we think of ourselves but it’s usually based on what others say to us, such as praise, compliments, or disapproval. So the reality is that our self-esteem can constantly change because we base it off of what others say. 

But self-worth is not supposed to change because it’s how we value ourselves personally. It’s the high standard we are supposed to set ourselves at. However, we tend to combine self-esteem and self-worth together. We tend to rely on what others think of us in order to determine our own value. 

We are taught to determine our self-worth based off how much others like us, compliment us, and accept us. Then when they don’t like us or accept us, we no longer like ourselves. We are no longer valuable. We are no longer worth anything because they don’t think we are worth anything. 

But I think it’s time we go against the norm and separate our self-esteem and our self-worth. Our self-worth should never change. It’s how we value ourselves, not how others value us. So it’s time to ask ourselves… who defines your worth?