Beauty

A month or so ago, I saw a young woman walking into church. She evidently had some form of cerebral palsy, or some condition that caused her to need to use walking canes. The first thought that came to my mind was that she was beautiful. I’m sorry that I did not go to her and tell her this. Her beauty, to me, seems to have been from the “I’ve overcome my limitations, see me walk”, or “I am who I am”. It was something in the way she held herself. I thought that she was beautiful, and that I prayed that Ani would be capable of that kind of mobility some day. I saw her walk, not as some gangly stumbling movement, but a grace in motion that she was able to control her body.

In other ways, I’ve come to wonder what “beauty” means. I’ve seen beauty in people’s hearts, souls, and servitude. Beauty is not simply a physical characteristic. Beauty is in a serving heart, a caring heart. It’s in a mother’s hand held out to help a child who has stumbled. It’s in an action that brings joy to somebody else. Beauty is in the eyes of a child who has not yet learned to see the world through cynical eyes. Beauty is in the importance of a worn out teddy bear that a little boy carried everywhere. I miss that little bear. Beauty is in the stream-of-consciousness chatter of a 5 year old. Beauty is not hiding how you feel. Beauty can be in the order you find in chaos, or the chaos you find in order. Love is beauty.