I have met people who believe magic of mathematical coincidences magnified by their own predisposition for patterning. A TV commercial will say the word "soap" simultaneously to the viewer (me) thinking it. Perhaps you, at a party, were about to say the word "hippopotamus," but suppressed the word when out of the blue, another partygoer spoke it first. A friend of mine with a mental illness would continually rearrange into anagrams the meaning of simple sentences. What is happening here is our obsessing with coincidence, patterns that helped primitive man survive that which he could not explain, but what modern man has traded for miracles. Once the little fictions fall away, however, greater truths appear. Once we look beyond a crying statue, we see what the statue truly represents, and honor our beliefs rather than burlesque them. Once we share our interpretations of the cosmos, instead of superstitiously refusing to compromise one jot with billions of other people, the true miracles of peace, bread and health will also reciprocate. Find today the crack of coincidence in the wall whose mural of reality is painted over by habit of mind. By peeling away the layers of convienience, the beauty of actual miracles lies bare.