She cups the emerald-green wonder in her palms. Mom, look!
I see it, a rarity split into quarters, and we smile. Cool.
We inspect the four-leaf clover, humble piece of lawn that it is. Small holes punctuate a few areas, and its bright-green color reads vibrant, with delicate, lighter-green veining.
I remember those days, first as a kid and even as a teen, sprawled in the grass, nothing better to do than search for four-leaf clovers. I recall looking for years with no luck, and then one day, I found them — a whole patch of glorious mutants. I plucked four-leaf clover after clover, rare riches to press in my journal, show to my mom, brag about to my friends — because we all know that the four-leaf clover brings its finder good luck.
Roughly 10,000 three-leaf clovers exist for every one four-leaf clover, which makes them rather unusual. Yet scientists haven’t quite figured out what causes that fourth leaflet. Is it genetics or environment? They speculate about a recessive gene or a mutation or a developmental error. But, it’s this error, this mutation, this gene-code goof — that’s what makes the four-leaf clover special.
As God-sized dreamers, I think we are a bit like four-leaf clovers. (<==== Click to tweet) After all, we do things quite differently than most of the world:
We embrace the unknown.
We place purpose over pride.
We seek restlessly.
We follow hard after God.
We love extravagantly.
According to tradition, each leaf of a four-leaf clover represents something. The first leaf represents faith. The second represents hope. The third, love. And, the fourth, luck. Faith, hope, love … I’m reminded of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians.
And, luck … I do believe we dreamers are supremely lucky:
We are lucky to be living life on purpose.
We are lucky to be pursuing that which makes our eyes shine and our hearts beat faster.
But, most importantly, we are lucky to be learning in love, every step of the way. Learning how to chase down dreams, but, at the same time, how to better love ourselves, those around us, and our God.
As I stare at this dime-sized treasure, “the greatest of these is love” echoes in my brain. Something clicks. I look at my daughter’s precious bit o’ green with fresh eyes.
She holds not just a stem with four leaflets; she holds in her hand four little hearts, perfectly joined.
Shared by: Elizabeth May