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I will always be with you, my Hilda. I have not left your side for one moment. In the midst of my own joy, I have yearned to pierce your darkness, I have grieved over your sadness and loneliness. Rejoice, my lamb. |
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But not the words, not the love – they lodged in her heart and whispered of hope, of light, of life. |
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The fire chattered softly and rosy shadows curtseyed and swayed on the panelled walls... |
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This was a woman who understood all too well that one cannot remain in the rarefied atmosphere of the mountain tops; a woman who understood that one can only breathe and truly live in the valleys. |
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She made herself stop speaking, for words were an intrusion here. |
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Like the dawning rosiness of the new day, that beautiful radiance crept slowly from Hilda’s face and seeped into her eyes, turning the despair to hope, the sorrow to joy – while into her face stole a deep, sweet solemnity. She stared ahead of her into the fire, her spirit no longer penned inside that panelled room but roaming freely God’s vast and star-filled spaces, hair blowing behind her in the heavenly wind, face grave and yet exalted. |
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Like the dawning rosiness of the new day, that beautiful radiance crept slowly from Hilda’s face and seeped into her eyes, turning the despair to hope, the sorrow to joy – while into her face stole a deep, sweet solemnity. She stared ahead of her into the fire, her spirit no longer penned inside that panelled room but roaming freely God’s vast and star-filled spaces, hair blowing behind her in the heavenly wind, face grave and yet exalted. |
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Oh Nell, darling, in truth might morning angels sing that we were there, and are together yet, and will be still. |
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I will dry your eyes and be your light….You are My beloved. |
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But He also insists that you face life’s journey with fortitude, stooping to lift others as they stumble on their own journey. |
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Remembering, it seems to me, is a kind of stepping outside the limits of time, to make present again a reality that was once experienced as lovely |
Squirrel wrote: |
Give Hilda a quiet day love, one to enjoy however tired and sore she may be feeling, and then a quiet night of sleep. |
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So! She had given herself away – to Hilda, at least. Her sensitivity and perception heightened by her grief, Hilda had noticed what countless others had missed. Why did that not surprise her? Suddenly Mother Abbess nodded – and Hilda understood and smiled back. She could wait. |
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The friend she had lost and her new family all bonded together |
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...her eyes held once more that other-worldliness, her sensitive face was tinged the faintest of pinks, her vulnerable lips hovered on the edge of a smile. |
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Do you know, child, you are the first person ever to notice what Christmas Day does to me - and I have been here a good many years. I know you are very perceptive but I have to ask myself – did I want you to know and so allowed you a glimpse inside? |
Identity Hunt wrote: |
How can I bear the suspense! |
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Hilda’s eyes widened |
Cath V-P wrote: |
Does MA recognise that she has, in Hilda, found a person who can give her what she needs, through the catalyst of her own loss? |
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You somehow make it part of yourself, of your spirit, then find some way of going on living |
Cath V-P wrote: |
And the sense of meeting between them is so strong, so clear |
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you find your way overnight into this sealed-up heart of mine, nestling there as though you had always belonged.”
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Identity Hunt wrote: |
Will we get to hear more about MA`s story in due course ? |
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How ever did you get yourself to school every day and face those shining faces so filled with hope, when you had lost your very future? |
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desolation she recognised all too well, the desolation she herself had felt, not once, not twice, but three times |
vicki_theterror wrote: |
Please go on writing this, as it has really touched me in a special way. |
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“And, yes, I fled that tiny voice that even then was whispering to me. Was He mad? Turn to Him after all he had done to me and mine? I told Him what He could do with His so-called love.
..... “But I had to learn the long, hard way what you seemed to assimilate with the loss of your mother – that in the end there is no escape – from pain or from Him.” |
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“How calmly you wait, child. You are so easy to talk to. You walk through things with others, touch them where they are, accept what they tell you and never flinch.” |
Lesley wrote: |
the refrain is heard everywhere - if there were a loving god why does he allow this? I know it was the question my parents asked when my sister died. I've yet to hear a reply that can justify that. |
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all those well-meaning do-gooders who said time would heal, all those hateful people who told me I would marry again, that I would forget Stephen. |