Common Vessel of Glory

I look into her face,

A person wholly unknown to me;

Common, not made up with the world.

Her hair neither red nor brown exclusively,

well-kept, wavy, unmemorable;

No adornment but the simpleness given to her.

You may not even notice her;

She is not shiny on the surface.


But, it strikes me,

She may be a capital instrument of God’s grace.

Right before me;

This may be one who is made great,

and she may change the world.

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