Filled with doubt, I open the front door to view the meadow. What has visited in the night?
With reluctance, I round the corner and encounter my fellows. How will they greet me?
Sullenly, I gather the tools needed for the day’s chores. What will be asked of me?
The questions I ask terrify me. Lord, here on my cushion, whisper courage to me.
(Letter #1,824)
