I read God’s Word, then I spoke to Him as I looked at the moon. A gem broke off and fell on my head. I didn’t expect it, and I sure didn’t deserve it. God dropped it on me from heaven. It melted, and liquid warmth flowed over me. It sneaked inside and filled me there too. I glowed with light and cried then sang. I took the gem with me to bed to hide under my pillow and keep forever.
But I awoke to a cold black morning. My eyes lay heavily on my face; my neck longed to set my head down. I dragged my springless body into daylight. People swished by me. Some were crabs, and they nipped my toes. Others, scorpions, stung my ankles. The cars honked at me. Where was my precious stone? I looked into faces, but no eyes welcomed me.
I stumbled across the street. Had no one found it? Did no one seek the Lord last night and find one’s own gem?
That moment was fire, power and serenity. It inspired hope. But today I had lost it.
A homeless lady reached up and tucked my tag back under my collar. “Honey, yer tag was showin,” she said and then grinned before hobbling away.
I blinked at her. The swirling winds had chilled me. But her hands had been gentle. My neck grew warm. My body thawed a little. I looked at her retreating back. Then I hurried off to class.
Maybe my feeling about the moon had vanished, but the gem was still there.