Somewhere in East Asia, a shipment of cheap, disposable metal lands in a large factory. Here, several dozen underpaid workers will form an assembly line, and day and night, rain or shine, weekdays or weekends they will strive to accomplish one goal: to create a tiny, incredibly detailed, one inch figure. With four heads, six arms, and scrolls of knowledge amongst other ceremonial objects that are held in its grasp. There is no time for the workers to admire this beautiful piece of work, as, before they know it, the cargo ship has arrived again to take them to the Americas.

Wandering around Toronto's beautiful Kensington market one can find almost any oddity possible: from high fashion, to 40 year old records, to entire cookbooks of recipes that all contain marijuana. Your senses cannot help but find themselves bombarded by this constant stimulus; colourful decorations and clothing catch your eye, the smells of the eatery section entice you, the sounds of all the people consumes you. There is no slight amount of chance that I end up in this one particular East Indian curiosity shop. Fabrics of purple and blue drape the walls, large sculptures of the Buddha are scattered, and of course the incense is plentiful. The last thing that I notice is the slight drone of some relaxation mix-tape coming from somewhere near the back of the store. All of these together make for a very different sensory experience than the outdoors. Soothing, and reassuring, I delve in deeper. Upon arriving at a table of small, intricate figurines in orderly rows upon a shelf I choose one nearly at random, not having the slightest clue about eastern religious deities. Upon asking the cashier about this particular figure, she tells me that it is the god of knowledge, and music. I figure these particular traits could apply to me, so in what I later considered a callous use of my few dollars I bought it for fifteen. I had bought Brahma, the god of all creation for a mere $15.

After sitting down in a nearby hipster-friendly organic cafe, I consider my prize. Appraising it for its aesthetic value, I attempt to make sure it is worth the price I paid. A truer consumer nowhere you can find. I notice the level of detail is even higher then I had predicted in the dim lighting of the store. Trusty Google gives me more background on the being this figure represents: Brahma created the Hindu universe, he breathed life into it through the small beads symbolically clutched in one of his six hands. Four of his remaining arms are out thrust in the cardinal directions of south, north, east, and west. With the book in his hand, Brahma granted the world knowledge.

Astounded, I realized what I had in my hand. The creator of the entire universe was being sold as a knickknack. It was beautiful, in both a spiritual and physical sense. The details all matched up with the real version, so who was to say this figure couldn't be the real deal. If, during communion, the bread and wine become the body and blood of Christ, then why, when this little figure was contemplated to its fullest, could it not become the real creator of the universe? I imagined my little figurine coming to life, rising up above the common people, and starting to tell them of his story, of his creation. They would surely not listen to him at first. They would wonder incredulously, how could this little insignificant knickknack be an all knowing being?" Little by little though, people would realize he was indeed the real Brahma, and they would revel in vast cosmic knowledge they could have scarcely imagined before his coming.

Of course this is not my current view, but that little figurine taught me a valuable lesson that day. It showed me how to find wonder in the world; the smallest insignificant things can be important if you make them so. They can guide you through your life as a partner by your side. When times are tough, you can think about your most sacred objects, and in moments they will reassure you, and bring about the best answer for the situation. The sensory overload of a busy market place is a greatly rewarding stimulus and experience for a while. However you are never a whole person until you have faith in the wondrous, whatever that may be, and realize the small moments of true beauty in your life.

Note: This story is about 3/4 true, with the other 4 being the overtly religious stuff. I've been reading too much Life of Pi, and source reformation documents (european history).