Yeah, it IS OK to be Different!

She sat in solitude on the swingset, kicking at the soggy mulch and dipping her toes in the small puddle below the swing. A gentle breeze lifted her dark brown hair off her neck for a moment. A group of kids on the kickball field were arguing over an unfair play, their arms flailing in every direction.
The distant sound of squealing could be heard as a clique of drama queens chased a boy around the blacktop. But she would never fit in. She was too weird, too mature, too out-of-fashion for the rest of the world. No one would ever accept her.
She thought to herself as she swished up and down on the swing, "What does it take to fit in? Coolness? The best clothes? The prettiest hair? A spectacular body? A dirty mouth?" A silent tear rolled down her cheek and splashed into the puddle below. "How can they not see?!" she wanted to scream, "How can they NOT know that the way they are living is never going to get them anywhere?!"
Three more fat tears raced down her face, and she wiped them away just as quickly as they had come. What is so wrong about being different? She started to get up and walk away, seemingly invisible to the rest of the children out playing. She walked and walked and walked until the whistle blew.
No one made sure she was there. No one walked with her. No one stood by her. It went on like this for weeks, months, and she couldn't stand it any longer. She wanted to make sure someone noticed her for once in her lifetime.
She left. She walked straight out of the playground, unto the busy road, into downtown, past her house, and disappeared. When the children lined up at the end of recess, no one noticed her absence. At the end of the day, her teacher didn't know where she was. By 6:00 that night, the police had been searching for nearly three hours.
When they found her, she was at a church, talking to the youth pastor that had stayed late to help clean up. She told him about how much she wished she could be heard, but no one would listen. She told him about how much she wished she could be seen, but no one would look. And she told him about how much she wished there was something or someone out there who loved her, but no one did.
He, in response, told her about God.
To all of you who are struggling to be different in this world, who feel alone and unloved, God is there for you. Just remember this girl. Think about what COULD have happened if someone would have approached her on that swingset, talked to her, told her SOMETHING nice.

P.S. It's OK to be different.