When I was a boy, I did something each spring that is almost unknown in today’s Xbox world.
As I watched, caterpillars crawled out from under a leaf. That allowed me to witness a miracle.
I ran into the house, found a Mason Jar (we always had Mason Jars!), and poked holes in the lid. When back outside, I found a stick and some leaves, which I placed in the jar.
Then, I sneaked up on the unsuspecting caterpillar, caught it in the jar, and screwed the lid on tight enough that he could not get out.
For some reason, my mother allowed me to bring the jar inside, and I placed it on the window sill.
Then….I waited and watched.
Somewhere, in its own time, the caterpillar disappeared into a silk sack woven to form its cocoon.
Time passed, and one day, the cocoon started to rock. A slit formed, and a different creature, a butterfly, emerged. Then, I opened the jar so it could fly away.
I doubt I can forget the lesson of the cocoon. Something is going to happen, but you don’t know when or how. And, when it does it, the mystical magic fascinates.
Too many times, we miss the magic of life. We hurry through life at breakneck speed. We go to meetings no one ought to attend. Chores, tasks, and duties crowd out life until our own busyness pushes away the miracles.
Observe life because miracles happen in a blink of an eye. They include a child hopping in puddles created by a sudden summer rainstorm. Or the surprise of a new dress on a teenage girl who is now grown up. Or a boy who becomes a man overnight. Or a wrinkled hand clasping another as a couple grows old together.
The magical, mysterious moments of life are what we should put on our window sills and stare at. They are things that memory revives, not a phone call or an errand or a met demand.
And if you miss them, what will you have to remember?