Once in awhile you get tripped up by the world, because it does not compute, to use your language. It does not make sense that ones could be as you perceive them—perhaps difficult, unloving, even harsh in what they would say to you—because you are love itself. You are the innocent, holy Child. You want to be loved, and you want to give forth love, and you want to give it forth freely, innocently, without limitation.