Some days ago, I was walking when I found myself in front of a carpenter's shop I had seen a lot of times before. I took a look at the things inside it, then saw a guy that surely works there (I barely looked at him, though) and then kept looking to other things on the outside... and kept on walking.

At once, I realised that I had given no importance at all to that guy, and began wondering about how many times I had done this before. Not seeing these importnat people. People with dreams. People working. People working to make their dreams come true. People working to get a living. People working to be free. People working, and faded in their jobs. People working to give their beloved a better life. People working because working is their way of living. People working because working is their way of evading life. People working because they want to. People working because they have to. People who like working. People who love working. People who hate working. And, most of all, people working to survive in this cruel world, to get money, to echieve success, to get a link with reality, to have a place of their own in the world.

Most of them could sometimes feel they are "invisible". And they probably are. I remember having read or watched on TV something, a love story probably, in which the female protagonist feels invisible to the eyes of her beloved one. But this is not this romantic.

These invisible people, working and working, working for their lives of for others' lives, are all around us. And inside us, as most of us seem to be invisible.

We, with our own exciting, romantic, boring, patient, not so patient, important or unsubstantial lives do not seem to notice this. We are oblivious to everything around us - everything that do not involve us.And then, someday, we find out that everything around us is ablivious to us, that we are also invisible to almost everyone. Wed don't seem to be important to the people - as unimportant as they seem to be to us.

And some people learn how to live with this truth, some people make great efforts to get a well known name, to be "not-so-invisible". And some people, having tried this, or not, end up depressed. Depressed because they think they are nobody. Depressed because they are bored. Depressed because they see the same faces around them all the time. Depressed because they are not the successful they wanted to be. Depressed because they ar not what they intended to be - or what is worst, depressed because they are not what OTHERS intended them to be.

Yeah, sometimes we are this way. Sometimes we feel pity - for ourselves.

But, believe it or nor, every single one of us is important, for good or bad - that's up to you. The world runs because all of us, suposedly unimportant, invisible people are here.

Every single child, every single man, every single woman - they are all who keep this world running. Not only the known ones, the famous, the glamourous, the powerfull - all of us.

I remember a Power Point presentation I have, one of those that end up saying "send it over to x people". This one was about a depressed guy, and the lesson a friend of him gave him. One about a hundred dollars. But what I remember mostare the questions at the last "pages" of it. The first set of questions was about famous people, but the second one was about people who had been important to you. And it said something about no one remembering yesterday's headlines, but those who are important to us.

I should say, invisible people. They are important to us because they have been with us - when he needed a helping hand, when we wanted to share a happy moment, when life seemed to be almost imposible to deal with, when we were heading the wrong way and were in need of some good advice.

As well as these invisible people are important to us, we, invisible or not, are important to others. We have all listened to a friend in need, told a beloved one he or she was not going the right way for them, given some good advice - and probably lots of not so good advice.

I always remember the times when Minerva and Albus came to my house. They were kittens, so they took me as their "mother". And I remember their first Christmas, with all the fireworks, and so on. They were not they way dogs get, but were afraid. And they were glad of having me with them, I know. I am not invisible to them. I am not invisible to my friends, to my family, and to many other people.

So you're not invisible to the ones that love you. And there is always someone who loves us, that is true.

This is to you, invisible people. A tribute to all of you who think no one listens to you, no one even notices you - your efforts to be a better student, worker, human being. We all notice. And what is most important. Your beloved ones always notice it. Perhaps they don't say so, but it is this way.

For all of you, I love you because you are so humans!

I should say now, I love sharing my life with you - and getting to know little pieces of yours!

Love,

Marianne