To Rogue 2

I can feel your pain in my physical body—- a fraction of a fraction of what you feel, dear girl.  It’s like you’ve been in a train wreck, and I have a small splinter in my hand.  I know my pain is small compared to yours, but I offer it as a prayer that God will ease your agony a little and give you hope.  I feel it in my chest when I read your journals.  And I am so glad you’re journaling.  It is a good outlet and lets others know to pray for you; and to take one day at a time.  I am the age of your mother or maybe your grandmother.  Sixty seven.  That sounds so old.  And it is!  I just want you to know that I love you and Harry.  God bless you. May God give you strength and help and all possible comfort for your heart. Especially tomorrow.

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