He saw with the eyes of destiny. Where the world saw a valley of dry bones, He saw an army. Where the world saw a funeral, He saw a wedding. Where the world saw a cemetery, He saw a garden. Although He walked among the broken, He saw the flowers.
“I know a 'face' where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine.” William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream