On Wednesday I wrote some friends and said I am calling it early--- 2012 is hereby pronounced the year of the desperate prayer. The rest of the week was hell. The kind of hell you don't even want to talk about. In truth, things happened that I never wish to speak of again. And that was before Friday. Friday morning word came that one of my dearest friends had a horrifying stroke. She lives far away now, and her children called from the airport saying "Pray... it's very bad." So that is what we did. On Saturday, the first snow of the season fell and covered everything except our anxiety. The next bit of news we heard was that she was awake. She was speaking. It was slurred. And she was trying to make jokes. That didn't really surprise us, and although we do not know the extent of the challenge that lies ahead for her, we all sighed something that sounded and felt like relief. A bit later the mailman's shoes left prints in the snow. In the pile of mail, there was an envelope that made my jaw drop. A letter from this friend who calls me sister from far away. A steady , beautiful hand. And the love that came with it... such a gift! I write a lot of letters, and during the week between Christmas and New Year's I wrote everyone who I haven't managed to talk to of late. There were more than two dozen envelopes in a bundle when I was finished. One went to my friend. And one came back. In tomorrow's mail, another will travel to her. It says that I will follow as soon as possible and whenever it will not be too taxing for her. Let it come quickly!
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