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Open Sky

(Backdated.)

In the middle of the square at 3 a.m., I am unobserved by any of the 270 people whose corridors form a kind of amphitheater around me. I am brushing my teeth.

I am also thinking about good work, hard work and consideration that is unseen, unappreciated, repaid with abuse, and even self-righteous abuse that I will not have the energy to respond to, as hard to bear as it is.

But I am standing beneath an open sky, and although I’ve charged through the day with hardly any space to breathe, my feet have brought me here. I will pause here, and breathe, and know that no work, good or bad, goes unobserved, that no effort made in the right spirit goes unappreciated, and that, therefore, I will bear what seems hard to bear, and it will seem easy.

God, give me rest.

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