"puny form"

Tuesday was an incredibly full day--stretch marks appeared on the mystical vessels that contain time. Our guest on the radio show was a thirteen year old girl who loves to write. She gets straight A's in school and loves math and sees the right answers in different colors in her mind. No, I don't understand it. She is in a wheelchair, fed with a g tube, extremely sensitive to heat and cold. Her hand movements drift in the air struggling to find the right letters on her electronic communicator. If you passed her by, you would notice her beautiful face and light brown hair, but you could easily pass her by and think nothing was behind that charming smile. She took my hand and held onto it for minutes and then she took hold of my heart forever. I love good writing and her poems were spectacular. Her grandmother said that she does not see the world like anyone she has ever met or likely will meet again. I agreed--like holding a snow flake in the cold sunshine seeing its uniqueness. She even wrote a song about her grandmother that her music teacher put to music and sings. We all thought during the show that it was the equal to the best love songs we have ever heard. I adored the language of her poetry--full of life spoken by a lifeless male robot trapped in a little black container. But she was not trapped. Her spirit eye traveled through forests and oceans--raindrops had faces that burst with happiness. I would not know that if she had not told me, made me feel the joy of the tiny explosion on my face.

This morning has left me with a lingering reflection of her eyes on my soul allowing me to finally understand what Baha'u'llah meant when He said,"Dost thou reckon thyself only a puny form when within thee the universe is folded." Seven Valleys, p.33

Everyone, I mean everyone has some unique contribution--an atom that seeks to be folded into the universe. You have it--believe it--find it and when you do you will have found your true self.