The discovery of diamonds was probably understated. Unlike the first person to top the ridge of the Grand Canyon, or push through the brush beside the brink of Niagara Falls, or plumb the waters of the Great Coral Reef, diamonds invite you to look closely. Quite closely.
Such wonders are lost on the casual observer, or anyone with a short attention span. A diamond the size of a flax seed may not garner a moment's notice if you are rushed for time, or shopping for sweaters in a bargain basement. They could easily be mistaken for glass shards, or sequins dropped from a glitzy blouse.
I personally have no such gems. There is a ruby in my engagement ring, and another in a necklace John placed around my neck when we were betrothed.
Yesterday a friend stopped in around noon and John offered to make lunch. We three sat and chatted about our days. Then our friend told a story.
"I had a conversation years ago with a fellow traveler on a plane that has impacted my life. He told me that the most important person in the world is the one in front of you." As he spoke I noticed that the peripheral static that usually buzzes in my head grew silent. I listened to him as if it was all I needed to do.
Today a woman who is flattened by the flu texted me. Her usual resistance to asking for help had cracks in it. She very tentatively asked if I might have time to come over. While it was not her in person, I decided that her words in my hand counted too. She is the most important person in the world. She is the diamond in my palm.
And tomorrow, I will see her face to face. Serving her will be the sparkle in the afternoon sun.
