If I am a mist that comes, rests, and is burned away by the sun — then let me cool my fellows while I remain.

All is impermanence; let me not pine for solid rock underfoot.

(Letter #1,694)

Let me give of my energies until I am empty, then let me give yet more. You will fill me up, you do so daily.

All that I hoard falls to rot. Let me pass love along to my brethren.

(Letter #1,693)

O, why do I scrutinize the many gifts you bestow? The sunrise beckons, yet I scowl at the chill wind. Ease comes, yet I resist over fears of idleness.

Lord, let me accept these treasures you hold out to me without demanding that each jewel be first polished. Let me turn my face to the sun, smiling, and walk this track. Let me laugh as I kick away stones rather than fear a turned ankle.

(Letter #1,692)

Let my day be one of unbroken service. Let me steal nothing, not a moment.

You fill me with energy and your sunshine. Let me pour it all out, generously and with joy.

What a strong back you have fashioned for me! Let me share it and carry my fellows’ burdens, singing a sweet and inviting tune.

(Letter #1,691)