Grandma smiles at her. "The light has not departed from you. Never turn from the knowledge of it, little piece of my heart."
"Oh, let me come to you."
"If you were to come to me, a sliver of light would be absent from the earth. You are sent down into the cold dark world to bring it light, though you are but a reflection. In many times and many places you will not see the light that you bring, for it is hidden from your eyes so that others may receive it."
I was invited to a barn raising near Wooster, Ohio. A tornado had leveled 4 barns and acres of prime Amish timber. In just three weeks the downed trees were sawn into girders, posts and beams and the 4 barns rebuilt and filled with livestock donated by neighbors to replace those killed in the storm. I watched the raising of the last barn in open-mouthed awe. Some 400 Amish men and boys, acting and reacting like a hive of bees in absolute harmony of cooperation, started at sunrise with only a foundation and floor and by noon, BY NOON, had the huge edifice far enough along that you could put hay in it -- a vast work, born of the spirit.