22/11/2025
đź’—đź’—
I’ll never forget when I asked my grandpa, “Why does it always seem like only good people get hurt?”
He didn’t lecture me. He didn’t give me a complicated answer.
He just looked at me and said, “When you go to pick a flower, which one do you take?”
That stopped me.
Because he was right—people don’t reach for the dead, the bitter, or the thorn-covered. They reach for what is beautiful, gentle, soft, and full of life. Good people get hurt not because they’re weak, but because their kindness makes them noticeable. Their love makes them approachable. Their light makes them easy to gravitate toward—and unfortunately, easy to take advantage of.
And the world often forgets that the most delicate flowers are also the easiest to bruise. The souls who love deeply are the ones who bleed quietly. The ones who show up for everyone are usually the ones no one checks on. The good-hearted get hurt because they give without calculating, they trust without hesitation, and they forgive when others would walk away.
But my grandpa’s point wasn’t that good people should change.
It was that being the “flower” isn’t a flaw—it’s a gift.
It means you still have softness in a world that tries to harden everyone.
It means your heart still knows how to bloom in places where others have withered.
And that’s something unforgettable.
“Andy Burg”
