This day is already perfect. Every detail laid out. Even the vague breeze is a miracle. Why do I think to try to improve it?
Lord, how shall I help in secret today? Let no spotlight fall upon me.
(Letter #2,213)
This day is already perfect. Every detail laid out. Even the vague breeze is a miracle. Why do I think to try to improve it?
Lord, how shall I help in secret today? Let no spotlight fall upon me.
(Letter #2,213)
