Given that I have exactly 5 minutes at this moment I will be parsimonious.

“The light has gone out of my life.”

When Teddy Roosevelt wrote this in his diary, on the day his mother and wife died in the same house, what was it that prompted him–compelled him–to trudge on in the darkness?

Was it faith? Fear of falling? Hope? Vision for the future? Whatever it was, I think it’s somewhere in everyone’s soul. I want to find it in mine.

Sometimes when I think I’ve found it I lose track of it again. Like a tiny stone dropped in the carpet.


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