Arrived with Rey, left with Joey

This morning at church we had a flower exchange. We each bring a flower and place it in one of the vases before we enter the sanctuary. They're cut and placed in baskets and then brought in for the minister to bless. Then children walk among the pews, distributing the flowers. It's designed so that we won't leave with the one we brought. It symbolizes our respect for the planet and our appreciation of our congregation's diversity.

I brought a bright yellow gerbera daisy, purchased yesterday at the florist. I received a rather wilted something-or-other from someone's garden.

At first I was disappointed. Then I listened to our intern minister as he told us to look at the blossom we received. Really look at it. I could see how pretty it had once been (probably yesterday). I appreciated its earthy smell. I saw the value and beauty in it.

I feel like I came to church with my cat Reynaldo. The gerbera daisy is strong and in its prime, like my 10-year-old boycat. I left with Joey. At 17, he's not alert or lively anymore. But he's affectionate, with a loud purr, and an open and loving heart. I see the value and beauty in him, too. Especially in contrast with Reynaldo and the barely-adult Connie.