Aida Zabidi
"Is she not a beautiful thing?" He asked wistfully.

"Look at her - at her gentleness and her smile. Look at her spirit, the fire in her eyes when she feels she has been wronged, and her grace in relenting when she realizes she is in the wrong. Look at her tirelessness at the care of her family and children, and how she has worked herself 

A woman is all of God's grace and all of God's pride in one. 

What pleasure is it to beat a woman into obedience? To break her spirit, and dim her inner fires? Treat her well, and she will treat you like a queen, but vent your anger on her, and she is nothing more than your rag doll."

He sighed as he looked at the battered woman through the glass of the hospital window. Already she was retreating from the probing questions of his officers, the customary protectiveness of her partner, the start of a hundred and one excuses that would keep the perpetrator of the crime free and walking on the streets, and free to repeat his actions again.

Another victim of the senselessness of the world.

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