from trevor’s encyclopedia of lost and found things
The world was his palette, words his colors, and a pen his brush.
He painted human faces.
“See with the eyes of your heart, hear with the ears of your heart, understand with the heart of your heart,” an old priest had told him once.
He painted Gabby.
Her brown eyes brimmed with kindness.
Her dark hair around her shoulders.
Her hands and feet cracked and calloused.
Her sonrisa a light for the world.
Her nakedness imperfectly perfect, perfectly imperfect, beautiful like the good earth.
He painted the old priest.
His clothes tattered and torn from much giving.
His cross tarnished, the first gift given to him at his ordination and a reminder that God is in each and every person each and every day.
His shoulders hunched from much praying.
His face full of love.
He painted the kind doctor.
Her dark eyes sparkling like the night sky.
Her forehead wrinkled with deep concentration.
Her healing hands.
He turned to Gabby in the early morning light.
He held her close and felt her heartbeat.
He knew beauty.
He knew love.
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