I was speaking with a friend today when I felt like I could see her heart in the same glass dome as the enchanted rose in the classic fairytale.
The dome, the fragile glass dome, was the only thing that protected the rose.
Is that how fragile our hearts are?
As I pictured her fragile heart in that glass dome, I saw something else. Gentle hands picked up the glass dome, pulled out her heart, and held it close. Her heart became part of the hands that held it.
As I spoke to my friend, I realized that we treat our hearts like they are replaceable. We offer them up to people as if they can withstand the elements that we expose them to. We allow people to use them up and toss them out as if they can grow again, just like an octopus whose arms can regenerate.
Our hearts cannot regenerate.
Sometimes the emotional pain is too much to bare.
Those gentle hands do not want us to allow others to use us up and toss us out.
Those gentle hands want our hearts to remain in them where they are protected from the elements.