If you are like me, there are some days when, without intending to, you move through the day in a whirl, or in a stupor, or dragging in sadness, or simply preoccupied. On those days we may miss the small but precious gifts we are given.
One afternoon, distracted and a bit discouraged, I went outside and walked around the courtyard behind our house. As I walked I saw, floating through the air, a small seed surrounded by tendrils. I don’t know what kind of seed it was, but it was beautiful, and I reached out my hand toward it.
What amazed me was that it stayed with me. Perhaps there was a very fine tendril clinging to my finger.
But it even changed hands at one point.
After a while I blew on it gently and off it flew, only to settle gently toward the ground behind the nearby bushes.
The presence of the seed felt like a gift, just when I needed one. I wonder sometimes if it has sprouted.
