When I stood close to these little blossoms, I was entranced by the perfection that had gone into creating them. Each one perfectly put together, like finely painted china or delicate lace. And there they stood quietly by the edge of a neighbor’s garage, just radiating their beauty and not caring who noticed.

Then I thought this is only one example, there are thousands of blossoms across the planet, tiny and perfect. There are birds of every color. There are monks in the mountains. There are millions of everyday saints, carrying wood, making flour tortillas, caring for the young and the old, fighting on a battlefield, repairing our cars. All these seemingly small creations and acts that quietly bear the signature of deep love.

There was a ladybug exploring my tiny patio garden yesterday. First roaming the pansies and then navigating some parsley sprigs. A tiny perfect little life doing whatever it is that ladybugs do. She seemed very sweet.

I am reminded that perfection is not really a human quality, but rather a divine one. Your creation or your action, your word or your works may even be crude or unfinished or not what was envisioned at all, but the kindness or compassion or joy involved may be a perfect love.

A friend recently gave me a delicately designed little notebook with the following admonition on the front: “Do small things with Great Love.” The message keeps repeating.

Carry on doing all the wonderfully perfect things you do!