To everyone else, my most prized possession is nothing more than a rubber band used to secure a ponytail. My sister has dozens of them in every color imaginable strewn about the house. This small black hair band, however, has not left my wrist for two years. It cost no more than three cents; they are sold in packs of 50 at any dollar store. To everyone else, my most prized possession is just about worthless.
Two summers ago, my youth group took a mission trip to northern Miami. Each night we went to a local park in a poor neighborhood. It was obvious that the area was plagued with poverty, crime, and pain; however, as soon as our group of teenagers got to the park and began to play with the kids, all the trouble surrounding the park began to fade away.