holiday

His was a face ill shaven, with unsuccessfully cut hair, messy looking; but not in the modish-took-hours-to-look-messy-look. His clothing was poorly fitting, his mannerisms negligent of refinement. The young woman next to him I perceived was his girlfriend. Her appearance was similar, her language uncultivated, crass; her pajama pants faded. The couple caught my curiosity, and so I watched them for a few seconds, as the young woman hung on his arm with a happy grin on her face. He whispered and they laughed and he gently embraced her as they walked, side by side. My curiosity led me to harshly wonder: They apparently love each other. But how does she love someone like him? And how could he love her? Look at them. Really. Their love just couldn't be all that resplendent. I doubt they could even spell "resplendent." Such shallow thoughts. Did I really think in those few seconds, that love had the potential to be inferior when embraced by someone that I regarded as unlovely? We all breathe and live. We are all humans. And love is still love. It is love there, it is love here. For love transcends time and space and history. It transcends ignorance, culture, wealth, intelligence. Agape love, Philia love-- all love. Above all, love perfectly transcends beauty-- it exists independent of limits of loveliness, it completely disregards beauty and splendor, ugliness, lowliness.

I needed only to look at the cross again, to have fully learned that.