Army of Ink Heart Full


army of ink 95 garbage bag and bad apples


Sometimes it all got too much.  She had to separate the bad things from herself, particularly the things others had dumped on her.  This left her to concentrate on taking care of her heart, her future—and her self.

Footnote story: 

Sometimes the hardest thing is to separate the bad stuff from ourselves – and hold on to who we are or who we were before the bad things happened. It’s a bit like having a rotten apple in your school bag and if you don’t reach in and pull it out (an unpleasant thing to do, but necessary to protect your things), it just rots away, going through everything – eventually ruining everything you have.

There are so many of us who have been given a bad apple.  It is the worst thing in the world to receive.   This little girl has a good story about bad apples…..

… Someone put a bad apple in her school bag once, and although she was sure people could tell something was wrong, she didn’t show anyone the apple because it was so bad – and she worried it would make them feel bad too.

The little girl’s greatest fear became that if she ever took the bad apple out, or someone discovered it, they wouldn’t want her anymore.  They’d go away and never come back.  She forever longed for someone to come along and get rid of the bad apples for her.  On most days, she wished the apples had been put in someone’s bag.

As the little girl grew up she got used to taking the bad apples people gave her.  It wasn’t that she liked or wanted or asked for them – she was afraid more bad things would happen if she refused them.  She also feared what people would think of her if they knew about the badness she kept hidden.

Sometimes she’d open the bag a little to see how people would react.  Some people offered to help her sort out the good apples from the bad apples – others weren’t so kind.  This made her feel ashamed and more to blame for accepting the apples in the first place and not being able to say, ‘NO’ – or to make it stop.

Eventually there was no more room left for the little girl.  She became stuck and mixed up in all the bad apples.   She longed for goodness and didn’t understand badness.  She needed a helping hand and reached for the only one she had – her own.  Placing with great care, her hand upon her heart she made a pledge to save her self from the badness.  With the hand that was free, she began placing the bad apples into a separate bag so they wouldn’t keep damaging her things – or she, herself.  Most importantly, she swore never, ever to accept bad apples from anyone ever again.

THE END (of bad apples).