“You know, I still think you are one of the handsomest guys I have ever seen.”
“Hmm, hmm.”
It’s true, it really is! I have been seeing his face for decades now, and I still find it strikingly handsome.
I find my father has an unusually kind/sweet face, and as for Mummy, well… her countenance reflects such sweet kindness, plus she has the most radiant skin ever. Not to mention my sister who is cuteness personified, even as she enters her 40s. And then there are my friends who are all beautiful, noble women.
I wonder if it’s at all possible to recognize Beauty unless viewed through the eyes of Love. Maybe it’s Love (love?) that sheds light on what is, or perhaps it is the one that blinds us from what is. I don’t know, and do I really care?
