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"You matter," she said. Those two words. I had been feeling really down of late, like a worm that isn't even worthy of becoming bait. "Listen," I argued, "There are eight billion people on this planet, why should I matter? There are a gazillion stars in the universe, why should I matter?" I explained to her the principle of entropy, that everything tends toward chaos and death, so why should I matter? She needed to understand that I was born without fanfare and that my death will go virtually unnoticed by the world. I matter? Nonsense. The implication is that each person is important, that they have something to contribute, that life has meaning. "Bah," I said. I went on to remind her that millions are hungry in this world. Why? That wars have sent untold innocents to an early grave. That politicians, religious leaders, business tycoons and entertainment czars really don't give a rat's patootie about us. Or me. And then she said something that blew me away and obliterated all of my so-called logical and intelligent responses. She said, "Listen buster, as long as I live and breathe, you matter. As long as there is a God in heaven, you matter. As long as you are loved by even one sentient creature on this planet, you matter. So don't you ever tell me again that you don't." 

Whew! Point taken. I matter? Maybe we all do. What a novel thought. I might even grow to believe it.

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