A small moment of grace

Someone once told me that “grace” is not some dramatic, God-driven event with angels with trumpets marking the occasion, but rather an unexpected moment of joy or revelation.

I had one of those moments last Easter when my friend Anita emerged from her small and chaotic kitchen in San Antonio with a ham and all the fixings for an unexpected, amazing dinner, which Stew, I and her shared on an improvised table in her living room. I told her this was definitely a moment of grace.

Grace in action: The moth is on the right-hand side, clinging to the
hem of the plastic cloth. 

This morning, while sitting on the terrace enjoying the perfect weather and views of the landscape I had a moment of grace: small, private and amazing.

I think I witnessed a white moth clinging to the plastic tablecloth and undergoing the final moments of metamorphosis. The caterpillar and the striped caterpillar were still attached, but it seemed as if the moth was trying to break free.

I got my phone to try to take a photo but I’m afraid it didn’t come out very well. Still, after five more minutes of gentle struggle the moth broke free and flew off. I don’t know where the striped caterpillar went, or if it just became part of the moth.

Right after breakfast, cup of coffee in hand, I usually sit outside and read a chapter from a book called “Emotional Sobriety”, which I recommend to everyone whether they recovering alcoholics or not. A chapter a day starts my day on a calm note no matter how much trivia I might have fluttering inside my head.

But I didn’t do my reading this morning: I felt as if witnessing this small miracle was my meditation and moment of grace for today.

2 thoughts on “A small moment of grace

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