These bitter sorrows of childhood when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.
These bitter sorrows of childhood when sorrow is all new and strange, when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks, and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.
Childhood has no forebodings but then, it is soothed by no memories of outlived sorrow.
My childhood was full of deep sorrows -- colic, whooping-cough, dread of ghosts, hell, Satan, and a Deity in the sky who was angry when I ate too much plumcake.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories