The keeper left us to walk the neighborhood, to visit her favorite golden retriever who guards the home of the born again Christians and who seems lonely. But her destination was the Carmelite Monastery which is so quiet and peaceful. Not a sister was stirring. She sat in the warm, piney-scented chapel for a while taking in last eve's homily which called for an experience of the incarnation through Mary's eyes, or shepherd's sighs or perhaps even the donkey's ears.
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