DIARY Monday after Easter, April
Today is the real Easter morning. Yesterday was overcast and chilly. This morning is still, warm, newly awakened. One walks out into it like a flower just opened.
The world sounds like spring, like summer, this morning. So still, so perfect, so whole is the morning that one can hear all the small sounds dropped into it. One hears superhumanly—like God…..
When I was young, I always felt a morning like this meant a promise of something wonderful—for me perhaps. Good things happening I did not know of…..The morning was a “sign”……
I still believe it is a “sign” but nor for anything good happening to me or the world, anything specific….Hate and cruelty and evil are still rampant, war goes on.
And yet it is a sign. It is a sign that in spite of these things beauty still exists and goes on side by side with horror. That there is love and goodness and beauty and spirit in the world—always. This is only one of the times when it is clothed in flesh—in the flesh of a spring morning. We doubt and we need the sign in order to believe. A morning like this is the morning of Resurrection—when we see and believe, “Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.”
From War Within and Without: Diaries and Letter 1939-1944 by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, 1980
