Other Kinds

So—life widens. All kinds of loves come. Others come into the circle to complete it. And someday—maybe Otherside—but someday she would be there again, sitting in the pool of her skirts, her hands lightly folded in her lap, her luminous eyes smiling, and her soft voice saying:

"Tell me a story, Nathan. Tell me all the wonderful story of after I left—."

And the other people—I know they are still sometimes around. I know it when, in a rare, wonderful moment, I have a feeling that I am touching someone somewhere where it matters, and I know what she meant when she said words aren't always necessary, and for a blessed moment, my heart just—lifts up and goes along.

—Zenna Henderson, Ingathering.