Perhaps they are strangers to them, they are different. What is a stranger? I person like me but I am not a stranger and certainly they are not to me. The smile always comes at the beginning and the end. Though they are new they will shake your hand and look your way. Endless laughter to fill the days bright beginnings to fill the black daze. The wall has been broken, the fire has subsided a bright future is ahead. What does it mean to be a stranger? Outcasts like them or so they would have told me. A group that was too different to belong within them, A person like me. Who felt she did not belong, an ounce of kindness was bestowed upon me. Not even my family could cherish it and so few knew of me. What did it mean to be a stranger? I had fought for something I wanted and not something I needed. I wanted their love and attention but did I need it? A stranger like me did not need their love she felt the want of being praised. A slight pat on the head to which she was never given, a slap on the wrist all is to be forgiven? And then a group of people and suddenly the stranger felt that she belonged again. The hypocrisy was demolished a stunning light was ignited and through the explosion rose up a simple kindness. This kindness made a stranger feel wanted. A person like me, someone that always had people who cared about her, she was only looking in the wrong places. So you see even a stranger will be noticed. A stranger like you and me.