Thought for the Week
I took this photo of magnolia buds on a recent walk. It may be the only time I’ve ever snapped a shot of tree buds. In fact, I rarely even notice them. Instead, early each spring I look at the “empty” tree limbs and wonder when they’ll ever “come to life.”
But of course, they already have.
Long before any signs appear, life is at work within them. And then the first signs—tiny, nascent buds—become visible. But only to those who look closely.
When we moved to Ohio, I noticed that redbuds were among the first trees to blossom in the spring, and that, although their flowers were beautiful, they were pink, not red.
“So why are they called redbuds,” I wondered aloud.
“Well, duh,” my wife gently replied, “because their buds are red.”
Why hadn’t I noticed that? Because I’d never actually looked at their buds. Once I did, I realized they had a beauty of their own, a subtle slow-growing beauty.
How many people are like that? Tragically, some never reach full flower at all. But others simply take a long, long time to get there. And so we fail see their sleepily developing promise of beauty. Instead, we see only their rough and scarred bark.
Maybe, if we look closer, we’ll learn to see the nascent good in others, to recognize their slow-growing beauty. And when we do…
Maybe they’ll even see it in us.