Just a plane

In grade school, I visited the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C.

Inside the main entrance, on permanent display, was a silver-gray plane with black lettering on the side: Spirit of St. Louis.

What I saw was an airplane suspended in a museum. Only later in life did I learn about the plane’s history. About Charles Lindbergh, his 1927 flight from New York City to Paris, and his unprecedented worldwide fame.

During that childhood field trip, all I saw was a plane.

Sometimes, we just don’t know what we’re looking at. We look, but we don’t see. We hear, but we don’t understand.

It likely happens all the time. Rich, nuanced stories — in objects and in people — they surround us. And most of the time, we don’t have a full appreciation for what’s right in front of us.

Pause. Ask. Learn.

To be sure, we won’t catch all of it. But we’ll learn some of it, and we’ll be better for the learning.