Even as I cry woe, let the relief I seek flow away from me to others. You soothe me, let me soothe them.

How could I keep you to myself, Lord? You are the sun and shine upon all the village.
There is one, forlorn, who has no shelter but the hillside. As I pass them my blanket, let me also share some of the warmth that has quickened my limbs.
(Letter #2,471)
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