The other morning, I heard a man play the piano so beautifully.
The notes sprung into the air like divers off a diving board, all purpose and grace and ethereal glory.
This man and I aren’t strangers. But only barely. I’ve passed him on the street. I’ve seen him at the grocery store. I don’t know his name or job.
But what I learned about him the other morning is that he’s got something beautiful in him.
And what if we believed that about everybody? The convenience store clerk, pharmacist, neighbor you always see but don’t know her name. What if we chose to believe that this is a world filled with people who’ve got something beautiful in them waiting to come out?
I’ve thought that thought a lot since the morning I heard the man play. I’ve thought it about strangers in the check-out line ahead of me and tourists filling up the sidewalk. I’ve thought it especially when I’ve been annoyed with someone. And just holding that thought softens up my thinking – this person has something beautiful in her, I just haven’t seen it yet.
So a thank you to the man who played the piano the other morning. He let me know that we all are probably walking around with something beautiful in us.