Could This Be a Dawn?

As a six-year-old, I used to sneak outside early each morning to watch the dawn come. I wondered then how anyone could stay in bed when the sun was just rising. Who could sleep through dew-diadems on roses and tuning-up robins? And anyway, I had to thank God for a new, fresh day.

What a contrast to the explosion of the alarm clock at seven and the welter of petty worries and list of things yet undone that crowded into my consciousness in later life!

"Stop!" I told myself at last.

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Undeceived
November 25, 1972
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