“There’s a lot of beauty in ordinary things,” Pam whispered. It wasn’t just shapes made with her mouth absent of voice. If a pen had dropped in the moment, her voice would have been missed. It was thin and fragile, like a flower petal that would melt in fleeting rain, but flourish and strengthen in the sun’s rays. Her voice was soft and smooth. 

Her eyes were glued to the ground, and a tear hit the carpet in front of her as she leaned over it, her arms supporting her.

••

Helene was in the back corner. Holly had left to attend Micheals class that still had a few students present. Micheal was standing awkwardly close, and Helene slowly inched away to create more space between the two.

Concern was written all over Helene’s face. When she had rush into the room, Micheal had simply put his arm in front of her to stop her in her tracks.

“What?” Helene questioned, frustrated.

“Wait,” he answered, watching intently.

Helene thought she was dreaming as she heard waves of sound coming from her timid daughter. A warm smile filled her face, and Micheal gave a nod to her as if she had completed world’s hardest feat.

“I’ve been waiting all my life to see this moment,” Helene began.

Micheal took the moment, spoiling it as fast as possible. “That’s what she said!” He couldn’t hold back from giggling. Helene wasn’t even sure if that made sense in the current situation, but she was too immersed to care.

••

Micheal leaned against the door frame, watching everything play out. As conspicuous as Micheal can be, he slipped out the room to fetch the carefully made painting.

The emotional, living strokes created by Pam filled the canvas.

He kneeled next to her and could hear Helene’s footsteps behind him.

“Jim made me promise to give this to him before he left, but I didn’t realize it would be today,” he said thoughtfully. “I thought today was national diversity day… and I thought for sure those events couldn’t happen to fall on the same day…” he said parenthetically, ruining the sentimental value he had began with. 

He gave it to her small, shaky hands.

“You should keep it.”

Pam promised herself it would go where ever she would go. She had words, but sometimes pictures spoke a million words where your words just couldn’t fit.