In addition to gardening tasks, the sewing machine is another place where I do a lot of thinking. Recently I consented to be a vendor at a Christmas bazaar at the school one of my grandgirls attends, so I am at the machine, producing items to fill my space.
My son-in-law's aunt just had her 100th birthday, and the family celebrated by taking her bowling, one of her all-time favorite pastimes. She's no patsy either--a video was shared as she threw the ball down the lane, resulting in a strike.
I found myself thinking about this aunt while sewing. 100 years old! My mind wandered to those whose lives are taken in infancy, youth, as young adults. I think we, as humans, find it impossible to make sense out of this seeming discrepancy. "Why," I asked, "are some lives so short?"
Within a split second the answer: "No lives are short. They are all eternal."
Something to think about.
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