If you could, for just one moment, see…

I asked the blind lady what she would wish to see if, for only one minute, she could have the gift of sight.

She smiled and thought a moment. Then, she said, “Clouds.”

The answer surprised me. Of all the choices in the wide breadth of the world, she had chosen one that would never have crossed my mind.

“Why clouds?” I asked.

“Because I can’t imagine them,” she said. “People have tried to explain them to me. They tell me they are like cotton. They tell me they look like fog feels. They spray white cream in my hand. They move my fingers over paintings of skies and let me feel the shapes of clouds painted on canvas. But I am still no closer to an understanding. Yes, it would be clouds.”

I looked out the window of the cab. The clouds were moving, stately and triumphant, in majestic procession across the sky. Behind me the blind woman sat, prim and self-contained, with her cane propped next to her and her hands folded on her lap.

As I drove along I pondered her words. I, who saw clearly, spent each day wishing for some distant object – a place, a person, some prize of life I hoped to win. But one who valued sight the most – one to whom it was denied – knew that the greatest gift her eyesight could bestow was before me, unnoticed and unhallowed, at that very moment.

“Clouds,” I thought. Of course. What else in this great universe so eludes description, so fills the spirit with wonder? What else floats gossamer and ethereal above our lives, never touching down but always present with us, a reminder of the majesty of an unseen God?

As a child we are alive to their magic. We lie on our backs on summer hillsides, make up stories, find giants and dragons in their forms. They are God’s sketchbook, the measure of our capacity to dream.

But as we grow, they fall victim to numbing familiarity. Their poetry and majesty, though still alive in our hearts, is easily overlooked, easily ignored.

~ Kent Nerburn, Small Graces: The Quiet Gifts of Everyday Life

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