How many of us find all the good there is in our lot? Do we extract the honey from every flower that blooms in our path? Do we find all the gold that lies in the hard rocks over which our feet stumble? Do we behold all the beauty that glows along the ways of our sore toil? Do not many good things pass through our hands and slip away from us for ever before we even recognize their loveliness or their worth? Do not angels come to us unaware in homely disguise, walk with us, talk with us, minister to us, and then only become known to us when their place is empty and they have spread their radiant wings in flight which we have no power ever to recall?
This reading was taken from Week-Day Religion
Chapter 28 : Pictures in the Heart