You had to look a second or third br time to find the beauty in his face, br but it lay there etched into the lines br like crumpled paper, priceless parchment. br br Just as his life had its wrinkles, br meandering rivulets of time and trial, br so his face memorialized them. br It is the roughness that makes the smooth br seem sweet. br br It is more than skin deep, beauty. br It radiates into the wise eyes that gazed br upon history and survived it. br It lodges in the warm chambers of br the heart and the kindness br of the mind after it has absorbed br all the joy and the pain br of everyday life. br It is a face well earned br and well worn.