So much of life we all pass by
With heedless ear and careless eye.
Bent with our cares, we plod along,
Blind to the beauty, deaf to the song.
But moments there are when we pause to rest
And turn our eyes from the goal's far crest.
We become aware of the wayside flowers,
And sense God's hand in this world of ours.
The sun flecks gold through the sheltering trees,
And we shoulder our burdens with twice the ease.
Peace and contentment and a world that sings
The moment of true awareness brings.
She is from God’s world -- a direct disciple, I think, sent down to brighten our lives and teach us of higher things.To me she is beauty itself—the word came after her presence.Each time she smiles, I can only cry, and I think of something I read about the sadness of beauty: just to find it is not hard, but to bear it, that is impossible.If she were totally aware of the beauty she was creating, she would stop in awe of herself.She somehow makes life so much more than it is.