8 Comments

I read this when you posted it and I keep thinking about it. Just now I saw the link on your linkpost and it reminded me that I never actually left a comment to let you know that this story struck a chord with this particular reader.

This story got me thinking about the persistence of hope amidst suffering, and worship of the divine as the act of repeatedly choosing to turn our faces and our lives towards Love and Goodness, despite the pain that surround us and changes us. I don't think I can really believe in a god anymore, but I wish I could go to a church and worship Goodness.

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There are a few organizations that might be useful, such as the Unitarian Universalist Church...

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Excellent story, evocative, thought-provoking, with beautiful sentences.

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"mothers don’t stop loving you because you’re bad"

"I asked her if there was anything her son could do that would make her stop forgiving him and loving him. She said, no, of course not."

This, to me, is one of the (many) horrors of parenting. I would never want to love someone in a "no matter what" way. I do strive to have compassion for everyone no matter what, but we all know that love is more than just compassion.

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I am not religious and never have been, but I have read this story several times and every time I reach the fifth-to-last paragraph I begin to cry. (This is intended as a compliment; I love your writing and this story specifically).

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This was lovely, and an interesting insight as someone who grew up irreligiously

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...Wow.

Thanks, for that.

Wow.

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This was beautiful. You are an incredible writer.

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