Updated: Nov 27, 2017
“Do you ever stop to think about how many other people inhabit the earth and how your small story is just a speck on a very big tapestry?”
We were walking along the Prinsengracht on our way to the Anne Frank House as Mercedes decided to share this thought. We were clearly tourists. Wearing more layers than we probably needed for the cold.
“I try not to.”
“Everyone lives as if they’re the hero in their epic story.”
“Merc I’m sure Stan in accounting doesn’t wake up thinking he’s a hero in an epic tale.”
“The tale doesn’t have to be epic.” Her words trailed off as she looked off at the canal. Her long dark hair hung wild and loose, falling off her shoulders.
“But it’s hard to feel like any of it means anything.” She continued.
I took her hand in mine and pulled her from the street’s edge. She stumbled slightly, caught off guard.
“Would you buy a tapestry that was incomplete?” I looked at her.
We’ve made it to the house. We stand outside for a moment. The building is small enough in stature but its impression is grand in its own way. Without the line of tourists outside you might not have known it was there.
(Photo Source: thebohemianshop.com)