I forgot to pray.
* * *
At 7:30 a.m. my colleague and friend Martin stops by my office and places a box on the corner of my desk. It’s a gift from his wife, Tracy. He explains that over the weekend, as they walked through the botanical gardens, they saw this item and thought of me. I barely have a chance to thank Martin as he quickly heads out to teach. I have to get to my 8:00 class.
I look at the box, the heavy lid and thick green bow. What exactly made them think of me? I carefully lift the lid and see the delicate, beautiful gift: a bonsai embedded in a beautiful clay pot. Engraved on the clay pot is the phrase: “Precious …