There was once a blind man. Since he was born he was taught by religion to appreciate whatever God had given him. He did. He never saw beauty. People described beauty to him but he could not understand. One day he met a girl. He could tell she was beautiful from the way she talked and laughed. He understood true beauty. Her parents were not as accepting. "He's blind" "He's a *******, an abomination from the heavens. He never should have been born. He's a burden for his parents". They never met again. Yet, the man never stopped appreciating what God gave him though it caused him to lose the person who made him understand true beauty. God never once stopped to help him. As he lay on his deathbed,alone, he thought about the girl and about his disability. He was taught to love the thing that killed him; killed him on the inside. And so, he died, a mere shell of a man. Alone and unloved. Blind and cold.