An autumn leaf sits on my desk; I picked it up today, a memento from a stolen morning walk. So many things I should have done; but lovely it was, and the the sunlight streaming through my window beckoned me, "Come out!" So I cast my chores aside and donned my walking shoes. The path I chose was carpeted with fallen leaves and the air was thick with a potpourri of maple birch, and fir. So quietly a golden maple leaf drifted down and touched my face-so softly that I could think that God himself had touched me with the palm of his hand.
Debora Rorvig
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