Don't Ask Me How I

To Be Born In A Duck's Nest, In A Farmyard, Is Of No Consequence To A Bird, If It Is Hatched From A Swan's Egg.

My Life Is A Lovely Story, Happy And Full Of Incident.

Every Time A Good Child Dies, An Angel Of God Comes Down To Earth. He Takes The Child In His Arms, Spreads Out His Great White Wings, And Flies With It All Over The Places The Child Loved On Earth. The Angel Plucks A Large Handful Of Flowers, And They Carry It With Them Up To God, Where The Flowers Bloom More Brightly Than They Ever Did On Earth.

Enjoy Life. There's Plenty Of Time To Be Dead.

No, The Light Is Too Intense; We Do Not Yet Have Eyes That Can See All The Glory God Has Created. But Maybe Someday We Will Have Such Eyes. That Will Be The Most Wonderful Fairy Tale Of All, For We Ourselves Will Be Part Of It.