she died
yesterday
the young
sweet mother
of two
flew
up and beyond
the shadowlands
"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." Richard Bach
Thus George MacDonald writes to his daughter, whom he will soon lose to tuberculosis:
“I do live expecting great things in the life that is ripening for me and all mine-when we shall have all the universe for our own, and be good merry helpful children in the great house of our father. Then, darling, you and I and all will have the grand liberty wherewith Christ makes free-opening his hand to send us out like white doves to range the universe.” (The Heart of George MacDonald )
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