My wife and I always try to stop in at Trinity Church near Wall Street in NYC for a prayer and to light a candle whenever we visit the city. Five years ago when we first visited, only a few people would be there—maybe seeking a moment of peace during a break from work or enjoying a quick respite from the summer heat. In the post-Hamilton world Trinity is a hub of activity. Now hundreds of people line the sidewalks in the churchyard searching for Hamilton’s grave, and bus loads of tourists roam the sanctuary between Morning Prayer and the noon time Eucharist.

On this particular day a recent rain had created a miniscule mud puddle the size of my hand about three inches from the edge of a sidewalk leading to Hamilton’s gravesite. The mud surrounding it was a deep brown muck posing instant peril for an unsuspecting sandal slipping off the sidewalk. Thinking back to the paddling I got in elementary school for getting my shoes muddy at recess (RIP Mrs. Clara Carruth!) and knowing how generally clumsy I am, I was extra careful to stay on the sidewalk as I passed.

Exiting the Trinity churchyard, we doubled back by the puddle. A small brown wren had landed in it and was exuberantly taking a bath. Flapping and wiggling and fluffing her feathers, chirping and cooing as she bounced up and down in the inch of water. Her delight was overwhelming. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her and the puddle. The mud that I went out of my way to avoid was now her lavish spa. Her gratitude apparent as she ignored the giants lumbering around her and continued to splash. I was suddenly reminded how being present with an open heart brings a deepness to life I sometimes miss out on. My minor inconvenience was her saving grace. That teeny wren found more joy in an instant in that puddle than I sometimes manage to muster in an entire day. I walked away from Trinity with a new prayer. Please let me be more like the splashing wren than the rushed human avoiding the mud. Let me transform…Peace y’all.