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I love the written word.

My Grandmother always sent cards to us. And she would write notes. Usually nothing profound but just sincere and hopeful. Her thoughts simply expressed in her beautiful handwriting.

Not calligraphy beautiful. But, it’s beauty is written in the memories and legacy she’s left me.

I hope some day, when my children are older, they will read my journals and handwritten prayers. I hope they will see my heart and my hopes. I know they will discover some of my sadness and fear.

Within the pages, may they find a legacy. A place of memory. Maybe discover a part of themselves they didn’t realize was there.

(Photo taken from my prayer journal today.)

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