I wrote a story in lit. when I was in college
about a
Little girl walking with her grandma and wishing out loud that she had pritty clothes like other girls. Her grandmother


pointed to an old tree that didnt have too many leaves yet a bird build its nest in it. Because the tree over the years knew knew how to gently rock baby birds to sleep. It was an ugly old tree and wasnt dressed as prity as the o5her trees but 5he momma birds loved her just as your grandmw and mother loves you no matter how you are dressed....