It is a cold day in February, one where the windchill doubles the degrees below zero. The sun is shining and the air is crisp. Upon coming in from walking outside one instantly feels heat on their face.
There are some for whom even the thought of a day like today makes their hands frigid. The "cure", the grace, is a cup of hot Jasmine Ball tea.
There is grace in wrapping ones' hands around the cup for warmth.
There is grace in the light fruity smell that reminds one of spring days, warming sunshine, and quiet garden nooks.
There is grace in the liquid warming one from the inside out.
What is amazing is that Jasmine balls are hand sewn, sometimes very intricately with a clover or chryanthemum flower included. The balls are tight round masses of what looks like pine needles. When steaming water is poured over them the balls open up leaf by leaf and look like a flower floating in the tea pot. It really is a beautiful dance -from hard and closed, to soft and beautiful.
Life is often like this. As are the simple circumstances people meet in the world every day. The coldness of February has people hunch over to stay warm and keep the kind at bay; warm air causes the body to straighten up. Tea goes even farther in opening one leaf by leaf, softening the complaints of the day and the stresses of life. Pausing for tea makes one more beautiful.
Transfiguration Sunday approaches, a time when sacred texts speak of a change in countenance brought about by an encounter with the Holy. Do my encounters with the Holy change my countenance?
As I reflect I am drinking a cup of Jasmine ball tea. I ponder that this cup of tea changes how I feel, ergo how I will now act towards everyone I meet this afternoon. There is grace in the cup. Dare I say that I have encounter the Holy in this sweet smelling brew?
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