One day last week we pulled into a parking space beside a white car. Not to be racist . . . that’s just the only way I know to identify cars — by their color. It was an old car . . . not to discriminate against the geriatric crowd . . . but, well, it WAS . . . shall we say “of a certain age” or “elderly” or “senior”? What is appropriate currently? At any rate, it was past its prime, and its “glory days” were a fond but distant memory.
I noticed that it had some battle scars and a damaged headlight. But it was still running, as evidenced by the fact that it had left the house that morning. It could still go places. I had to glance at the interior. The leather was worn and mottled, as leather tends to get with age. But at least it was genuine!
Since I am unfamiliar with most makes of vehicles, I had to seek out its nametag. And there it was, displayed proudly on the back: Lexus! Okay, no wonder it was still running. It was quality. This car may have been missing a body part or two, and its paint may have been faded, but hey . . . a Lexus is still a Lexus!
So, there you go. No matter how scarred the body is, regardless of how worn the upholstery is, you are still going strong. Why? You are quality! Wear your name with pride. It is who you are.
Lovely Lady, be happy today, whatever your model. You are a Lexus!