Anything Considered

I think I'll miss those mornings when I wake up and the rain is pouring. I'd lie in bed and listen to all the sounds: the torrents and torrents of water that batter the windowsills and floor and rafters; trees creaking as they sway; their branches swinging wildly, and their leaves rustling in the wind.

I think I'll also miss what comes after, when the rain stops and the sun comes out and everything green starts to glisten and become all bright and sparkly and new.

Familiarity is comforting. And although I do feel somewhat afraid of a foreign land where the time of the day corresponds so strangely and peculiarly with the sun, I trust that there are always common things, familiar things, that I'll find comforting. The world is less different than we sometimes expect, and besides, what better tribute can we give to those we love other than treasuring and appreciating them better?

Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.

HENRY VAN DYKE (1852-1933)