Thursday, February 24, 2022

I long ago laid by stores for deep winter times.

Now the hungry ones visit. We are far from the nearest settlement.

This root cellar may be the center of a new village. We are drawn to one another, here in wilderness, by our hunger.

Lord, let me not guard your providence nor be miserly in my intercourse. You only fill empty vessels.

Thank you, Lord, for this growing throng of new friends.

(Letter #2,572)