Sometimes compassion compels us to confront, sometimes to cajole, sometimes to be silent and wait, sometimes to do or say what it would never occur to our egocentric self to do or say, for we can never say for certain in advance just how compassionate love may prompt us to act, to see, and accept within ourselves and others. Yet, in our willingness to recognize and go forth to identify with the preciousness of ourselves and others in our collective frailty, we discover our contemplative community in the intimate texture of our daily interactions with one another.
Anna was too filled with joy and wonder to sleep. This was the night for which her soul had prepared her these many years. She heard the celestial music of the saints and the rustle of angel wings. Love had chosen her for this wondrous experience, so she was unafraid. The time was close now, for she smelled the fragrance of roses around her. "Oh, blessed angels, I love my God with all my being."
~ from ANNA: WOMAN OF MIRACLES by C. Haenni and V. Vick
