He read the morning’s passage and thought of a mother’s love: all she does and gives in times and eras of aridity: tired, stressed, worn, sad, doubting; and still she loves—giving, sacrificing, unknowing if child sees, knows, cares, or understands the completeness of her love when not lived as smile and worn gaiety.
But such is the truer devotion: to love when it doesn’t feel like love—but work. He read the end again:
“The less self-interest we have in the pursuit of virtue, therein will be the purity and brightness of divine love. The child embraces his mother when she gives him sugar, but it is a greater sign of love if he embraces her when she has given him wormwood or camomile.”
One day, the affirmation arrives: when the child understands and sees and returns in embrace—love—recognition in thanksgiving for all her love and lived devotions that seemed only work and showing up.
