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15 February 2015


Our last, quiet moments of celebration. The very sands I begged race through the hourglass before the doors of our Great Hall opened I have implored to slow these past nine days. You’ve all brought such gifts; you arrived with light in your cupped hands and I drank it down greedily, gratefully. I have forgotten myself in your presence, laughed more, danced more, shared more, listened more. I am changed by joy.

Joy...

Such a small word. Three letters only, a single syllable. And yet... full, full to the brim and spilling over. A powered force through our clasped hands; a voice singing out from our circle: we are large; we contain multitudes. We belong to one another.

Joy...

It, too, is a circle. Anticipation, arrival, appreciation... the privilege of your company... the bittersweet surrender to our farewells, then... silence, a silence underscored with music, and the anticipation rises yet anew...

For we will be together again.

Our bond is a magical ribbon, a Möbius band, side out turned in, beginningless, endless, its simple mystery merely a twist... giving it one surface, one edge... leading but one direction – home.

Know this: every step you take away from these tunnels is a step in return. You carry with you the heart, the mind, the promise of this place; the light within you will lead you out … and back to me.

Go now. Take joy from my cupped hands. And remember – you are here and I am here and together we make a world.


Father

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