Home is where the heart is not famished, the eye not starved, the Sacred not banished or desecrated. The Sacred cannot be caught in formulas. It cannot be analyzed, not even in terms of ecology, as beauty cannot be caught in the semantics of esthetics. Fingers pointing toward the Transcendent need no vocabulary, for they do not preach. Beyond the dialects of all religions they witness to a religious attitude toward life itself.
What do I have to be thankful for?
I asked myself today.
So I decided to count my joys
As I wandered along my way;
The warmth of a home, the love of friend,
The beautiful sound of the rain;
The still of the night, the touch of a child,
A day that is free from pain.
The light of the sun, the cool of a breeze,
The sound of a waterfall;
But the love of God and the peace it brings
Is the greatest blessing of all!