The first sip of hot coffee hits my lips as the sun beams through the windows and onto my face.
My slow moving morning body is comforted by the roasted flavor.
I think about the life of a single coffee bean.
Where has it been before me?
How did it bring me such goodness?
A farmer took a bean and put it in the ground.
The sun and rain kissed the seed with love and gave it the will to grow.
Day after day, the coffee plant worked, growing and growing, knowing it had a purpose to fulfill, not knowing what it was, not caring it didn't know.
The bean became a plant, and the plant gave back more beans.
The farmer picked the delicious beans, red and green, and the sun dried them, roasted brown.
And now the bean is in my cup, crushed and black, brimming with the taste and smell of the sunny hillside it grew up on.
What a beautiful start to my day.
I am grateful for coffee.
