It was Steinbeck’s truth that gave him courage to write and give his art. Believing for whom was meant, art would be found and seen, and that to rest it’d fall away, he was freed to tell his full of dreams and share his whole of truths.
In faith, he wrote. In faith, he gave.
In hope, she read. In love, she saved safe in inner chambers of her heart.
Such is the way and purpose of art—not for fame, nor for wealth or living; but to gift one’s spirit in medium and way that lends to soul-affection of another’s.
In faith, he wrote. In hope, she read—affected—spirit warmed in the touch.