The lilac bushes begin to grow dull.
The grass grows slower.
At night our dreams fill with teachers and teaching and when we wake, they slowly dissolve, like salt tossed into the sea.
Smile more, she says.
Learn the truth of "you do not have to choose between prayer and anything else."
She points me to the New Testament, especially Paul's letter to the Hebrews.
In her letter she writes, "'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.'"
"Seen rightly, the truth of that is your liberation."
I watch the sun rise and remind myself that right seeing is inevitable.
I woke thinking of the dead baby robin, buried in a rushed grave as the rain began.
How sad life can be!
I was so grieved I forgot the shovel out in the rain, an unpardonable error in the circles in which I grew up.
And this: "Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, 'Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you.'"
The dog curls up on the bed while I write.
Our walk is coming later than usual.
I cannot shake the dream of another teacher reminding me of the loveliness of Montpelier, Vermont.
I wanted to ask her about her own writing, which has so moved me these past five years.
She was unhappy with how she left it but also amused.
The details - as always - were not for me to know.
And I struggled to say even this much.
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