Oct 8


Photo 79Recently I finished reading Anne of Avonlea–the continuing story of one of the most beloved characters in all of literature.

We know the character of Anne by descriptions: She has hair red like carrots and freckles dotting a very distinguished nose. Anne is tall and thin, with grey eyes and the propensity to get herself into all sorts of scrapes.

But those things are not what we remember most about her once the last page is turned and the book finds its way onto our bookshelves. It is something more magical than this, and I feel like I have found it! The line is   now underlined in purple pen at the top of page 247 in my book:

She seemed to walk in an atmosphere of things about to happen.

How marvelous! 

So when I think of myself as a character in the stories of the people moving in and out of my life (for we are all characters in other’s stories) I have to wonder:

How do they remember me after I have gone? 

How do I want to be remembered?

Will I be remembered as:










a dreamer?

I am sure I will be remembered as each one of these at some point in some one else’s story.

But more than all of these, above all else, I would like to be remembered–I hope to be remembered–as Anne is.

As a person that seems to walk in an atmosphere of things about to happen.

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