I Doubt If We Nuns Are Really

Not Quite Birds, As They Were Not Quite Flowers, Mysterious And Fascinating As Are All Indeterminate Creatures.

The Dawn Came - Not The Flaming Sky That Promises Storm, But A Golden Dawn Of Infinite Promise. The Birds Came Flying Up Out Of The East In Wedge-shaped Formation, And The Mist Lifted In Soft Wreaths Of Sun-shot Silver. Colour Came Back To The World. The Grass Glowed With A Green So Vivid That It Seemed Pulsing, Like Flame, From Some Hidden Fire In The Earth, The Distant Woods Took On All The Amazing Deep Crimsons And Purples Of Their Winter Colouring, The Banks Were Studded With Their Jewels Of Lichens And Bright Moss, And Above The Wet Hedges Shone With Sun-shot Orbs Of Light.

In My Opinion, Too Much Attention To Weather Makes For Instability Of Character.

Peace ... Was Contingent Upon A Certain Disposition Of The Soul, A Disposition To Receive The Gift That Only Detachment From Self Made Possible.

...there Began To Come To Her A First Dim Realization Of God's Humility. Rejected By The Proud In His Own Right By What Humble Means He Chose To Succor Them; Through The Spirit Of A Child, A Poor Gypsy Or An Old Man, By A Song Perhaps, Or Even It Might Be By The Fall Of A Leaf Or The Scent Of A Flower. For His Infinite And Humble Patience Nothing Was Too Small To Advance His Purpose Of Salvation And Eternity Was Not Too Long For Its Accomplishment.