One of my earliest memories is of sitting in St. Alban’s Episcopal Church in McCook, Nebraska, gazing at the stained glass window above the altar. I must have been three or four years old and bored by a sermon I couldn’t understand. That was when I started gazing at the colorful window.
The sun was at exactly the right height to shine directly through the glass, radiating stunning blues, emerald greens and deep maroons onto the white choir robes and even onto my lap. The colors were so jewel-like, they seemed magical to me. Pulling on Mother’s sleeve and pointing to the window, I said in a loud whisper, “Look! God is smiling at us from heaven!”
She put her finger to her lips and whispered, “No, dear. It’s just the sun shining through the colored glass.” But with preschool certainty, I was sure I was right. I had no doubt that those beautiful colors came from God and that He was smiling at me from heaven, just on the other side of the glass.
For the first of many times to come, I breathed in beauty and breathed out gratitude. Whether Mother knew it or not, I felt sure that beauty and the eyes with which to see it were special gifts from God—my favorite of all His presents.
Great Creator, thank You for painting our world with such heavenly colors.
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