Walking up a rocky mountain ridge this past weekend I was surprised to look down and see the tiniest flowers hidden among the rocks. I was impressed by the persistence it must have taken for these little flowers to grow-there was no shade, water or soil just rock. Their grey color reflected the color of the rock as if all their energy had gone into growing and none was left over for colorful display, yet in their own way they had beauty. A bit of softness against all the hard rough surfaces. I wondered about my own patience and faith in situations when I cannot see the light and know that I have something to learn from these flowers that start in a dark place and eventually reach the light. "The more faithfully you listen to the voices within you, the better you will hear what is sounding outside." hammarskjold P.S. Do you see the heart? I send my love.