On Good Friday we went to a concert of Mozart's Requiem. The old stone church we attend once or twice a year unfortunately has no parking lot and the city has grown up around it which meant we had to walk six blocks.
I have been reflecting on some particularly bad times some years ago, which you know about in part, dear girl, and how reassuring I found it that in every country I lived in (Europe), in each village there was a church steeple to remind me that my dear Lord was known here too and that no matter what, I was not as alone as I felt. That although I was quite without any earthly relations where I was, I was not without the more important kinships that Jesus, through his blood, made possible.
Happy Easter.
Layla
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