Uncloistered

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  “She gazed ahead through a long reach of future days strung together like pearls in a rosary, every one like the others, and all smooth and flawless and innocent, and her heart went up in thankfulness. Outside was the fervid summer afternoon; the air was filled with the sounds of the busy harvest of men and birds and bees; there were halloos, metallic clatterings, sweet calls, and long hummings. Louisa sat, prayerfully numbering her days, like an uncloistered nun.” A New England Nun By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1852–1930)

“Still Here,” by Langston Hughes

I been scarred and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
       Snow has friz me,
       Sun has baked me,
Looks like between ‘em they done
       Tried to make me
Stop laughin’, stop lovin’, stop livin’—
       But I don’t care!
       I’m still here!

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