This photo was taken at the English Teapot Cafe in Agios Georgious village in the Troodos Mountains of Cyprus. I love the way it turned out–not so much for its photographic composition or execution, rather for its meaning and memory.

We were with dear friends from Israel, sitting on the veranda of the restaurant. The wind was chilly, so we bundled up tighter and enjoyed our warm drinks: cappuccinos around the table, except for Joe who had a straight Turkish coffee without sugar. Later we were thirsty and ordered water.

The view of the mountains took our breath away, the quaintness of the village below was charming, and the conversation flowed with ease and warmth. I relished the moment then, and I relish it now again as I am writing this…

I love the “hammered” pattern on this glass.

I love hammered metals. My wedding ring is hammered gold and silver. I have several metal hammered belts, and my set of everyday stainless-steel utensils are hammered. I think it is a beautiful art form–an ancient art form, even described in the Bible.

Well this is the first time I had ever seen “hammered” glass. Of course, it is not pounded in reality, but it quite similar in pattern. At the time, I loved this glass more than the water inside. I was captivated by it.

Sometimes, I am a little crazy that way. No cracks.

And I have a confession to make: Through the  years, I have been one who has seen the glass of life half empty rather than half full. This is a huge flaw in my basic personality, and I must discipline myself for this. When I say discipline, I mean that I must count my blessings one by one; because I think that when a person like me sees the glass half empty, that is a basic problem with lack of gratefulness.

When that feeling overtakes me, I stir up thankfulness. It does me so much good to stop and rejoice over the blessings and challenges of my life. A gratitude check improves my view of life. 

But when I saw this particular glass, I was glad that it was half empty. The beauty of the glass itself is obscured when the water fills the glass completely. In the photo, you can see for yourself that top half of the glass is more stunning than the bottom half that is full. In reality, the glass is more beautiful empty; and if it had been full, perhaps I would have missed its artistic qualities.

Now I know there is a some parallel to life here somewhere… locked within the half-empty, hammered glass… but today, I am not digging too deeply… I am grateful for the beauty of this half-empty glass.