At this moment, somewhere in the world, children died of starvation, bombs exploded
to maim and kill the innocent, hurricanes destroyed everything in their path, but the loveliness of this moment was as real as wars and plagues and heartbreak. Pleasure and beauty are as valid as pain and ugliness and when I am fortunate enough to enjoy the former, I do so.
Heaven doesn't need dusting. The only tidying that remains is to continue growing in goodness, and goodness knows, for most of us there is always room for improvement.
Each moment had a brief life and was gone, never to return. Prized moments were never about riches, not jewels nor silks, not fine cars nor mansions, not stacks of cash nor stock certificates. Prized moments were a look of love, a gentle touch, the sight of a cat's grace, sunlight slanting through a stained glass window.
A verse from Ecclesiastes was a favorite of Laurel's: "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun." Some might find the message chilling. Laurel in her own mystical way felt part of a continuum of time.