Treasures Are Everywhere

Today I was sitting at my desk when I noticed that each of the snowflakes hanging from the ceiling have an almost transparent shimmering snowflake dancing beside it. At first I thought it was simply the shadow of the paper as it was being blown by the heater vents, but then I saw the shining edge of one snowflake and I realized there was something more substanial than a shadow here. I fetched the ladder from the garage, but when I reached up to touch the glittering surface, my fingers slipped right through a gauzy substance. I was afraid I had torn the so-insubstantial snowflake, but as I descended, I saw it bouncing again in wholeness against its more corporeal brother. I took the ladder back, but as I entered the dark garage I noticed that where I had touched the transparent flake, my hand was glowing slightly with a lacy pattern on the skin. Now, five hours later, I can still vaguely see the fretwork on the back of my hand. It seems to glow brighter when the lights are dimmed. I wonder if I will be able to read by the light instead of relying on the bathroom light to see the pages as I read to the children tonight.