Out of place

Each time I drive into the city, there is one thing that amazes me.
It isn’t the confusing intersections.
(Yes, it says no turns…but see how you can’t go straight? I get it, but it drives me crazy.)

It isn’t the towering buildings.
It isn’t the culture and style.
It’s this:

Tucked in between tall buildings, tight turns, honking horns, construction, and chaos, is this tiny little brick building.  It caught my eye a few months ago.  Each time I drive in, I look for it.

The picture doesn’t do the tiny-ness justice.  It’s old, odd-shaped, and minuscule.  It doesn’t fit in among the bustle and overwhelming hugeness of the city.

After a while, I started to notice that someone lives there, or at least does something there.  And though they live in this odd, cast-off little place, they fly a flag and put out beautiful flowers. 

Something about it has touched me.  Even if we feel out of place, odd, and absolutely insignificant in the face of all around us, we still have beauty to offer.  We can still lift and help someone, even if we don’t feel significant.

I think this little building is me.  Or maybe, what I’m trying to be.

3 Responses

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.