" Faith then carefully straightened the note, and promptly tore it nearly in two. She held it up by a corner, the bottom half dangling precariously. Jason stopped laughing, and reached out to grab the note. “Hey! That’s my money.” Faith held it just out of his reach and raised her eyebrows, head cocked to one side. Conceding defeat, Jason answered her unspoken question. “It’s still a one hundred rand, and I can still buy a lot of stuff. What’s your point?” Faith gently held the soiled note in her hands. “My son, it doesn’t matter how much you’ve been bruised, crushed or torn apart by life, you are still everything that God created you to be. You haven’t lost an ounce of your worth in His eyes. All He asks is that you will surrender your life into His hands so that He can heal you.” She sank back into the deck chair, still cradling the damaged note in her hands. "
― Dianne J. Wilson , Shackles