To me, they are rocks. They get in the way when I vacuum and hurt really bad when I step on them.
To Alice, they are treasures; diamonds, crystals, precious gems. She spends countless hours lining them up and sorting them by color. She carefully places them in front of various Barbies, Zhu Zhu pets and Build-A-Bears as the ultimate tea party favor. They are kept in a delicately carved wooden box her Daddy gave her. She loves them very much.
To the self-important lap swimmer, they are “old people” who take up two extra lanes for water aerobics. Evidently, this inconveniences him in the last five minutes of Master Swim Team practice. In a loud, rude tone, he voices his complaints and sends degrading, mocking glances their way. This very much upsets me.
To me, they are precious gems. I watch as they swim to the side and turn towards me, waiting for instruction. Lined up around the edge of the pool, they resemble Alice’s collection of treasures. Each one beautiful, unique, invaluable. I love them very much.
My anger towards Grumpy Master Swimmer turns to pity. His misconceptions of these lovely people keep him from ever knowing the treasures that they are. They are grandparents, retired teachers, world travelers and cancer survivors. They have made a support system among themselves, and they love and protect each other. I pray one day, when Grumpy Swimmer has aged and can no longer compete with the younger crowd, when he is retired and getting up to attend water aerobics is a highlight of his day, that he will be respected and treasured by others who are more understanding and patient.
We all have our own spaces where we keep our precious gems. Thankfully, God holds every one of us in His treasure box (even Grumpy Swimmer).
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