"Sometimes, yes. You see, Ale, it's easier to judge people by what we can see. I plant flowers and vegetables in the garden—I've done it with you many times. I plant a seed and I expect a certain plant. On the seed packet there's a picture of a round tomato, so I expect a tomato plant for the salad. But then I discover something different. The leaves are longer. Maybe it will be weaker, or stronger. Butterflies always land on it. But I wanted tomatoes. So I could pull up the seedling, tear it out, stop watering it, make it suffer—and I would never know what different fruit it was preparing for me.
Or I could wait. Respect it. Help it grow. Maybe it will never bear fruit. Maybe its fruits will be delicious but a different color and shape.
Being different means knowing from the start that you won't match the picture on your seed packet. You'll be different from what others expected of you. You'll be a surprise—for better or worse. Giulia is like that. She's different, but she will be a sweet, juicy, good, and beautiful fruit only if she is cared for, loved, protected. Not everyone will understand this.
Because different things—different people—they change how we think. They give us unexpected fruit. They ask us to pay new kinds of attention. Giulia is different, and only time will tell us exactly how she is different. We have to treat her the way we treat an unknown, delicate seedling: care for her with love. And she will grow."
From "Giulia Is Not Beautiful" by Mary Rapaccioli, Barti Publishers, 1992