I stood in the back corner watching them. They resembled three veterans who had met once more on a cold day after years of separation, and had lit a fire to warm themselves. I had pricked up my ears to overhear what they said, but none of them opened his mouth. You felt the air between them was vibrating and that a string of unspoken words was being unwound from mouth to mouth. Without the slightest doubt, this was how the angels spoke in heaven. How long did their silence last -- how many hours? It seemed to me time had come to a standstill, that one hour and one century were of the same length.
Each of us, as we journey through life, has the
opportunity to find and to give his or her unique gift.
Whether that gift is great or small in the eyes of the
world does not matter at all—not at all; it is through the finding and the giving that we
may come to know the joy that lies at the center of both the dark times and the light.