One day, I happened to be awake in time to see the first rays of morning sun shining on the back of one of our plain, brown dining room chairs. I watched, mesmerized. In the sunlight, the plain brown chair wasn’t plain at all. It wasn’t even brown. It was undulating river-patterns of rich golds and tans. It was a thing of beauty. After a few minutes, as the sun rose higher, the light faded, and the chair looked plain and brown again, but I knew better.
Father, today I want to see the hidden beauty—even the not-yet beauty—of each person I meet.
“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked [her]. The blind [woman] said, “Teacher, I want to see.” Mark 10:51.