Behold!
the way we kept saying it afterwards...gesturing our hands towards everything
Behold! is what the young lanky waiter at the cheeky Denver trattoria said when he delivered our waters, all with the insisting command of it. And then again when he brought the bread – Behold! Bread. Like he were a minstrel summoned by the high court, or a magician busking the streets of 1800s Italy, or a God proclaiming awe for the granted provisions. Behold! the bruschetta on a long rectangular plate, the brussels sprouts swimming in way too much balsamic. We chuckled each time, mouthing behold behold! The Clint Eastwood poster on the way to the bathroom, the paper menu he said we could take home if we wanted. Behold! the arrival of check, the magic of plastic card, digital money, the trust of a scribble as signature for the tip. Behold! his joy, our delight each time he said it, the way we kept saying it afterwards like kids playing pretend, smiling, gesturing our hands towards everything in sweeping proclamation - behold! behold! the car, the street light, the concert. Waking up in the morning to the rising sun saying behold! a new day, behold! you, me, behold! all of this, the earth, our life. - Moudi Sbeity
Just ... perfect.
I may never see the world the same way again. Thank you.
In jest, and with levity, but also an honoring of the miracles and awe coming at us from all sides.