One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live for ever and ever and ever. (from The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett)
When my son is snuggled up with his soft, blonde head on my chest, breathing in and out in that deep infant-like sleep, I am quite sure.
When I can rest my head on the strong shoulder of my husband at the end of a difficult day and know that he knows me, that he knows where the knots in my back are to massage away, which kind of humor will cheer me, where to get the right french fries, I am quite sure.
When I walk outside and hear the fall leaves rustle across the lawn, still green beneath their golden hues, and feel the fresh air on my face and breathe in the scent of dozens of homes preparing for a holiday feast, i am quite sure.
When I think of the baby growing in my womb, the miracle that is the formation of fingerprints and eyelids and organs that will serve him all his life, and when I consider the wonder that I was formed the same way, I am quite sure.
One of the strange things about living in the world is that one sees so many temporal things. All things within my vision will change. It is hard to often remember that I will outlive it all. I believe the world in its glory will pass away like a season, and yet I shall live for ever and ever and ever.