The grassy path stretched before me, baking beneath a scorching afternoon sun. Up ahead, a circle among the thirsty blades sparkled like stars or diamonds or maybe bubbles. Curious, I hurried to bend over. Ice? Ninety-three degrees meant not a chance. If garden fairies lived in a charming little village just five inches wide, with blades of grass for trees and twinkling lights strung branch to branch, I’d found it. I took my time, musing — and why not? Leaning in and discovering the water droplets were held in place by the silky web of a grass spider rather than the handiwork of fairies did little to diminish the magic, the joy, the gift. His miracles call for celebration!
You could tell a lot about people who would stop what they were doin' to watch the Almighty go about his business.
— Jan Karon, Come Rain or Come Shine
