beauty sighting #1

I met a dear friend at a wonderful breakfast placed called Snooze.  I could write a beauty post on their mugs alone.  Seriously, beautiful.  

It's always busy at Snooze, buzzing with hipsters and amazingly cool suburban moms alike.  We were seated right in the middle of it and I scooted closer to my friend so I could listen well and then I asked her how she was doing.  It didn't take long for her to be moved to tears, telling of her pain and longing.  Both so deep it was hard to find the right words.  As the server came to take our order, it was quite plain to see my friend had been crying, tears were streaming down her face, and we smiled up at him, wiped our eyes and noses, and ordered our food.  

Five minutes later another server appeared at our table with a pancake-of-the-day in hand.  A white chocolate chip and orange pancake with creme fraiche, orange zest drizzle, and cinnamony crumble to be exact.  Here's the beauty of it: we didn't order a pancake.  "Compliments of your server," he said, and presented us with the beautiful dish.  There is something so wonderful in an unexpected gift.  Something even more amazing in a person who sees tears and decides to offer what he can.  

On this day I was moved by two things.  First, the beauty of my friends' tears.  I've lived forty years now and I can say that authentic, courageous tears are beautiful and a gift.  I believe that with my whole heart.  Second, I was moved by the beauty of a simple gift.  How very much of it there is in the quiet act of noticing someone hurting and giving a gift that says: I see you.  It makes me wonder what I can give that maybe no one else can?  

Dear God, please open my eyes to the (seemingly) small things I can do to help ease the pain and brokenness of this world.  Help me add to the beauty around me in ways as simple and delightful (and delicious) as a pancake.