Once upon a time there was a miracle.
The miracle didn’t look anything like you might expect a miracle to look like. In fact, by all outward appearances the miracle looked to be a quite ordinary girl, quite pleasant, a pretty girl, but not stop in your tracks exotic.
The light didn’t scatter or shimmer in a special way when she moved. She bought toothpaste, toilet paper and bus fare. She didn’t laugh more readily and her heart cracked just as easily as the rest of us humans.
She didn’t even know she was special, let alone a walking breathing miracle. But there she was, real, magical, sacred and sheathed in hope! There was a song inside her and she hadn’t even formed the first note.
She could be sitting next to someone on a train, in a coffee shop, in the library at school. If they noticed her, they might think, oh what a lovely girl! But they’d have no idea. You might be sitting next to her on a park bench or in a movie theater. You wouldn’t know that you’d brushed elbows with a miracle and neither would she.
That’s the special nature of miracles. They are the unexpected smiles that light up the blackest moments in our lives.