She was like winter weeds, trying to survive in the midst of all the harshness and coldness of her surroundings. Knowing she would never be beloved like spring’s flower, she didn’t let that deter her from being seen. She was delicate but she wasn’t weak. And though she was not classified as a great beauty, in fact she was unfairly overlooked, she was lovely in an unordinary way. Tragedy piled on like snow heaped upon a garden but it could not mask her determination or her resilient spirit. She looked dead on the outside, but inside she was alive, courageously alive.
Photo and words by me