Tuesday, September 21, 2010

How Sarah Lost Her Family~~~

Some insights into Sarah's early life, first appearing two years ago, but never even read...  Please click on this. Do that tiny bit of magic and make the tale appear... I will do as I promised. I will tell you about Sarah. They say that time is an illusion. They say that everything that was, is and will be occurs instantaneously . Our minds perceive them as unique events unfolding in a seemingly endless sequence. But that is just God's trick. There is one universal celestial jewel, yet it sparkles with a trillion lights reflecting the radiance of Heaven. I believe that Sarah is one of those lights, one of the brightest lights. And when I discovered her it was my special blessing to love her and my sacred duty to keep her safe. She is the daughter of well respected school teachers and her childhood was warm and secure.Her people were known for their good deeds. And when she was a bit older, they sent her off to a small college, rich in history and colonial ambiance. But she never graduated. Her aging parents, in an attempt to safeguard her future, gave their life's savings to a blood sucker much more vicious than I could ever be. He was a self-styled investment adviser, a money conjurer. They believed his lies and so lost everything. For the only sorcery he could accomplish was transforming other people's wealth his own. Sarah was compelled to make her solitary way in the world with what little money remained. She opened a cozy, nocturnal book shop. She opened Philadelphia After Dark, the place where I found her. The place where I  fell under the spell of her pure, warm beauty. For me it is a holy place. Not a large, overpowering one, like some Gothic cathedral or the Temple Mount, but rather like a small spring hidden deep in the green, mossy shadows and dedicated to a beloved saint. I kept watching her, from the shop and from other sites as well. And I think she is the last child of my human line. I am certain. A father knows. A father can sense his own.

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