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254 the widows’ handbook After Her Death Mary Oliver I am trying to find the lesson for tomorrow. Matthew something. Which lectionary? I have not forgotten the Way, but, a little, the way to the Way. The trees keep whispering peace, peace, and the birds in the shallows are full of the bodies of small fish and are content. They open their wings so easily, and fly. So. It is still possible. I open the book which the strange, difficult, beautiful church has given me. To Matthew. Anywhere. ...

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