I once knew..........

.......a fair young girl. She was blithe and happy. Her form was perfect------a fit model for the sculptor's skill. Her features were fair as the lily and her cheeks like the blushing rose. Her eyes wer bright as polished jewels, and sparkled like the dewdrops of the morning. Her voice was rhythmic and musical, and her laughter like the rippling waters. She was as pure as fragrance from a flower garden.

Her origin was divine. Everywhere were the finger-marks of God, and about her the fragrant breath of heaven. She was born to a high and holy purpose.

But alas! What a change! What a fall! That which had come from the hand of God as perfect as an angel form, and as pure as a baby's dream, the hand of man had touched and spoiled. So pale and poor, and haggard. So bent, and broken, and shriveled. No life, no ambition, no hope. She was like the fragrant flowers drooping and dying under the biting of the fiercest frosts. Like the blooming beauties scorched and withered by the awful blast from the hot furnaces of hell. You ask the cause?

All the scars and blemishes, all the wrecks and ruins, all the agonies and heartaches, all the faded beauty and withered hope, and all the sighs and tears are man made.

"God saw everything that He had made, and behold it was very good."
"And God looked upon the earth and behold it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted His way upon the earth."

Anna Nicole was once her parents baby, on loan to them from God, endowed with great beauty and nobility. Some where along the way, that beauty, that nobility, was changed, molded into different forms by life's experiences and trials. By temptations and desires for the things of this world.

We watched in amazement, in astonishment,in amusement, in lustfulness, in excitement for the next soap opera-esk tidbit of gossip that might come our way because of who she was preceived to be, and perhaps what we wanted her to be. And I wonder if she ever asked herself 'Who am I?'

And now she's dead. And before she's hardly cold the vultures are swarming around her corpse, and the flies of the media buzz about carrying tidbits of her off, bringing them to those of us who want to partake, in whatever measure, of the essence that was her.

Maybe God decided that she had suffered enough in this life.