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I had been eagerly waiting just such a disaster. Storms, wolves, snakebite, floods-these are the occasions to find out how your father sees you, how strong and necessary he thinks you are. ↗
On Sundays, the pretending felt almost as natural as nature. The chapel was our favorite place. Long before we could understand what the priest was saying, the music instructed us in how to feel. ↗
If she could have anything in the world, he'd asked her, what would it be? She'd answered that one without hesitation: a best friend. She hastily added, a truly, seriously best friend; one that I couldn't wait to talk to first thing in the morning as soon as I woke up, and one that I still wanted to be talking to, right up to the last minute before I went to sleep. He'd smiled faintly. You mean a soul mate, he'd thought but not said. ↗
It is impossible to estimate full influence of the reading of the Word in a home day after day and year after year. It filters into the hearts of the young. It is absorbed into their souls. It colors all their thoughts. It is wrought into the very fiber of their minds. It imbues them with its own spirit. It’s holy teachings become the principles of their lives, which rule their conduct and shape all their actions. ↗
Aw, man. I’d just shot an angel in the face.I made my way into the foyer and sat down on the stairs. I glanced up at the big old grandfather clock. It was going on ten. My folks would be home soon. “How was your evening, honey?” “Killed an angel.” “Well, isn’t that nice.” That wasn’t happening. Daddy never liked guns in the first place, Mother just pretended to. I was so grounded. ↗
Living grows 'round us like a skin to shut away the desolation for if we clearly mark the furthest deep we should be dead long years before the grave But turning around within the homely shell of worry, discontent and narrow joy we grow and flourish and rarely see the outside dark that would confound our eyes Some break the shell I think that there are those who push their fingers through the brittle walls and make a hole and through that cruel slit stare out across the cinders of the world with naked eyes They look both in and out knowing themselves and too much else beside ↗
