The loveliness of Ordinary Time

By Lucia A. Silecchia

As summertime flows into fall, and pumpkin spice everything fills the senses — whether we wish it or not! — there can be wistful nostalgia for summer. For those blessed with memories of a happy summer, there will likely be some days that stand out as particularly lovely ones. East Coast humidity aside, this summer was kind to me, and there are many days I remember with grateful pleasure.

Unexpectedly, one of those memories was a long ride on the New York City subway. No, the Q Train is not the place to experience the splendor of the Grand Canyon, the excitement of Rome, the elegance of Paris, the restfulness of the oceanfront, or any of those things usually found on a highlight reel of the great and the beautiful. 

Like many, I started my ride that day with the lowest of expectations. I would have deemed the journey a success if it was merely uneventful, a dismally low bar for a summer trip. The August heat, dark tunnels, dense crowds, littered platforms, broken stairs, and underground traffic jams on the tracks rivaling those on the streets above were a sensory experience that is not the stuff of postcards or selfies. My fellow travelers were definitely not the happy touring companions of summer vacations. Instead, they were the harried crowds doggedly trying to avoid all eye contact, impatient workers running late, and sadder companions suffering in the many ways humanity suffers while riding the rails to seemingly nowhere in particular.  

However, this day was different. Because I was on the subway en route to a birthday celebration, I was carrying flowers. This may seem insignificant because, certainly, far more fascinating things are carried on the subway every day. But there was something about flowers that seemed to bring out the best in this group of strangers. Waiting on the hot platform, more than one person expressed concern that the heat would make the flowers wilt prematurely.  They expressed friendly hope that when the train arrived, our car would be air-conditioned.   Another asked if I had the stems soaked in water, and offered helpful horticultural suggestions.   Someone else asked where I got them. Others said that the bouquet was pretty, while others actually made eye contact and smiled at me.

These seem to be small things. In the scheme of things, there probably were. Yet, what I saw that day was a group of perfect strangers in an imperfect place prompted to kindness and community only because they saw something beautiful.  Something frivolously and fleetingly beautiful.  That was all, and that was everything.

There seems to be something in the human heart that seeks what is beautiful and responds to it in ways that bring out what is better in our nature. It could be something grand, like a mighty waterfall or a blazing sunset, that makes the heart rejoice in the beautiful grandeur of God’s creation.  It could be something stunning like a magnificent cathedral or an awesome symphony that makes the heart rejoice in the ingenuity of humanity, made in God’s image and capable of overwhelmingly beautiful work. Yet, the heart may also rejoice in the subtle, unmistakable beauty bursting forth in the smallest of things — a child’s smile, a butterfly, a Christmas ornament, a birthday cake, or, yes, fast-fading flowers on a crowded subway.

Often, today, what is quietly lovely receives no attention. Headlines are filled with reports of the ugliness that can fill the world, and the worst of human nature is so often on display.   Beauty can seem wasteful in a world that craves efficiency, and in the rush to do more, we can see less.   Perhaps we think of beauty only in that which is grand, and can overlook it in our everyday lives.

Yet, scriptures are filled with the summons to recognize the wonder of God in all that is beautiful. Love of neighbor often begins by seeing the good in them rather than focusing only on what may be lacking. The root of gratitude lies in noticing what we should appreciate before noticing what we want to criticize. Often, too, peace and hope come in seeing a glimpse of the beautiful in the most difficult of situations.  And, sometimes, it is a shared appreciation of something beautiful that can make strangers willing to talk, to smile, and to care for a brief moment on the Q Train. 

It made me think about the ways in which God created so much that is beautiful in the world, and wonder about how we might share in that creation by doing our own part to bring something beautiful to our own corners of the world. I saw how simple, fragile beauty brings out the best in us, with gratitude for all the ways that loveliness fills ordinary time.