As Long As One Can Suffer, One

And You Must Tell The Child The Legends I Told You - As My Mother Told Them To Me And Her Mother To Her. You Must Tell The Fairy Tales Of The Old Country. You Must Tell Of Those Not Of The Earth Who Live Forever In The Hearts Of The People.

It's Come At Last," She Thought, "the Time When You Can No Longer Stand Between Your Children And Heartache. When There Wasn't Enough Food In The House You Pretended That You Weren't Hungry So They Could Have More. In The Cold Of A Winter's Night You Got Up And Put Your Blanket On Their Bed So They Wouldn't Be Cold. You'd Kill Anyone Who Tried To Harm Them - I Tried My Best To Kill That Man In The Hallway. Then One Sunny Day, They Walk Out In All Innocence And They Walk Right Into The Grief That You'd Give Your Life To Spare Them From.

She Was Made Up Of More, Too. She Was The Books She Read In The Library. She Was The Flower In The Brown Bowl. Part Of Her Life Was Made From The Tree Growing Rankly In The Yard. She Was The Bitter Quarrels She Had With Her Brother Whom She Loved Dearly. She Was Katie's Secret, Despairing Weeping. She Was The Shame Of Her Father Stumbling Home Drunk. She Was All Of These Things And Of Something More...it Was What God Or Whatever Is His Equivalent Puts Into Each Soul That Is Given Life - The One Different Thing Such As That Which Makes No Two Fingerprints On The Face Of The Earth Alike.

People Always Think That Happiness Is A Faraway Thing … Something Complicated And Hard To Get. Yet, What Little Things Can Make It Up.

People Looking Up At Her--at Her Smooth Pretty Vivacious Face--had No Way Of Knowing About The Painfully Articulated Resolves Formulating In Her Mind.