Kayla, my friend and neighbor, knocked on the door sometime around ten. I had just rolled out of bed after being up late on the phone. I was certain maintenance was standing on my porch yielding chemicals, ready to spray for routine pest control.
"Just a moment." I shuffled into a pair of pajama pants and opened the door. Relieved to find Kayla on the other side, I invited her in for coffee and toast. She laughed at me for using old woman words and my morning voice.
Kayla brought me a newspaper article - copied double-sided onto printer paper.
"It's about music and it's interesting. I think you might like it." I'm reminded that sometime last month she left a torn out magazine ad under my windshield wiper that read: "music is whatever you make it." In black ink, a note was scribbled on the back.
This morning, she gave me an article. A beautiful, sad piece of journalism from the May 4, 2007 issue of The Washington Post. I encourage you to read it: Pearls Before Breakfast. Maybe it will make you wonder what beauty you allow yourself to miss.
(The online article is the full-length version of the piece I read this morning - a little longer, but just as good.)