I saw myself in my mother's room telling her why the door of the next room was locked, and I was afraid.

God had done so much, and yet I could not look confidently to Him for the little that was left to do.

'O ye of little faith!' These are the words I seem to hear my mother saying to me now, and she looks at me so sorrowfully.
He did it very easily, and it has ceased to seem marvellous to me because it was so plainly His doing.

My timid mother saw the one who was never to leave her carried unconscious from the room, and she did not break down.

She who used to wring her hands if her daughter was gone for a moment never asked for her again, they were afraid to mention her name; an awe fell upon them.