17 November 2025, @mariannewest’s Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2924: Pure but…

photo by https://unsplash.com/photos/wahite-textile-with-red-stain-4sLQldRt0sg

We all arrive in this world pure — a blank page that smells like hope.

But then… life happens.

We make mistakes.
We spill secrets.
We lose patience.
We hurt others even when we don’t mean to.
We forget what matters and obsess over what doesn’t.
We get jealous, angry, exhausted.

Pure, but… human.

There is always that but attached to our goodness —
a shadow behind the sun,
a crack in perfect glass.

And yet, no matter how many times we fall,
it is important that our hands stay clean in the end —
as clean as our soul —
because those hands will one day be a guide
for the tiny hands that run around us every day,
looking for direction, safety, and love.

Children are like a white, blank page —
and we must be careful what we write on that page:
fear or courage,
anger or kindness,
selfishness or love.

Her hands — even if sometimes the most guilty,
fighting through this imperfect world —
are also the softest at the
shared sunrise of a new day.

Family is the whitest page in the book of life —
the one filled with the most words,
the most creases,
the most fingerprints…
and the one we protect the most fiercely.

There, on that page,
all big and small hands,
despite everything,
hold on together.

Forever.

Because only when we accept our imperfections
does purity gain true meaning.

We are pure…
but also brave enough to continue
even when things are not perfect.

And that word but —
that tiny word —
is what makes our story real.
What makes it alive.
What makes it worth remembering.