My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Gifts in the Giving
To the one who had, more was given. From him who had little, the little was taken. In the taking away is there a freeing from its possession, a liberation from fear of its loss, so that now instead of having little he can be all? Is there also a gift in the giving of more to the one who has less? If there is, it may be a lesser gift, unless it somehow increases being as well.
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