A couple of weeks ago, I photographed a flower that was hugging itself, closed, as if it were hiding its light which it could not do as beautiful shoots of light were beaming out. Now that flower has bloomed.
This week my child has gone to camp, a place where girls play, sing songs before breakfast, before lunch, at dinner and listen to taps before bed. And I don't sleep for a while. But like the flower, they are blooming, learning to be independent, to care about one another, to take risks with counselors guiding them, just beside in case they should fall. They learn to let their lights shine and let the fruits of their spirit flourish.
They are like this flower, strong, beautiful, always full of light. They are finding the path of God's desire, joy and gentleness, strength and kindness.
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