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.
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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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