texts: It's funny, you knew. But the first thing I think of is kneading the bread that I help bake for the soup kitchen. Maybe that's because my the muscles in my arms still hurt.
labels: I also thought of that bread, Father. And of that night six days ago when the Mother Superior died, and I kept the cool, damp cloth on her forehead freshly moist. Father, what would you do if you had but one day in which to use your legs to serve God?