To believe, perhaps you had to cease looking for explanations and instead hold the little thing in your hands as long as your were able before it slipped like water between your fingers.
Eowyn IveyShe slid her boot soles onto the surface and nearly laughed at her own absurdity - to be careful not to slip even as she prayed to fall through.
Eowyn IveyShe had thought often of Ada's words about inventing new endings to stories and choosing joy over sorrow. In recent years she had decided her sister had been in part wrong. Suffering and death and loss were inescapable. And yet, what Ada had written about joy was entirely true. When she stands before you with her long, naked limbs and her mysterious smile, you must embrace her while you can.
Eowyn IveyAs the glow of the cabin windows turned to flickers through the trees and then to black, her eyes adjusted and the starlight alone on the pure white snow was enough to light her way. The cold scorched her cheeks and her lungs, but she was warm in her fox hat and wool. An owl swooped through the spruce boughs, a slow-flying shadow, but she was not frightened. She felt old and strong, like the mountains and the river. She would find her way home.
Eowyn IveyShe might be curt and ungrateful, but by God she could bake.
Eowyn IveyWe are allowed to do that, are we not Mabel? To invent our own endings and choose joy over sorrow?
Eowyn IveySometimes these things happen. Life doesn't go the way we plan or hope, but we don't have to be so angry, do we?
Eowyn IveyFollowing the pattern offered a kind of comfort, a quiet balance to working in the field during the day. The farmwork was coarse, exhausting, and largely a matter of faith - a farmer threw everything he had into the earth, but ultimately it wasn't up to him whether it rained or not. Sewing was different. Mabel knew if she was patient and meticulous, if she carefully followed the rules, that in the end when it was turned right-side out, it would be just how it was meant to be. A small miracle in itself, and one that life so rarely offered.
Eowyn IveyLike a rainbow trout in a stream, the girl sometimes flashed her true self to him.
Eowyn IveyFor en tragisk historie! Jeg fatter ikke hvorfor slike eventyr for barn alltid må ende med forferdelse. Jeg tror at hvis jeg noen gang skal fortelle barnebarna mine det eventyret, skal jeg forandre slutten og la dem leve lykkelig alle sine dager. Vi har lov til det, vel, Mabel? Å dikte vår egen slutt og snu sorg til glede?
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