By Betsy Gonwa, 
“I love the backsplash!” my friend commented.
“So do I!” We paused for a moment to admire it together.
We were talking about the original ceramic tile design of hearts and squares that graces the wall of my kitchen between the upper and lower cupboards on either side of the sink. Glistening squares and hearts of black and a reddish brown were the inspiration for the current color scheme of the facelift of our kitchen.
As we stood together, I remembered the dread which had accompanied the unveiling of that surprise. Unnecessary dread, as it turned out, for it turned out to be beautiful.
A portion of the backsplash had been revealed when I peeled away the two-inch strip of wallpaper below the window frame above the sink. Disenchanted with what I saw, there I had stopped. That design, though, was a small sliver of the whole, and did not give a true representation of the larger view. That only revealed itself years later when I finally did remove the rest of the wallpaper.
I am intrigued by my behavior. I am certain that this kind of reaction has detoured me many times in the course of my life. I may begin to move forward with a goal in mind, and then a strong feeling pops up and scares me off, and so I settle for the unsatisfactory status quo rather than venture further into the unknown with its startling surprises.
How often do I miss or delay the chance to view something beautiful because of my fear of the unknown?
