When I first heard this, my breath caught in my heart for a moment. Then I thought, well, there are so many ways to have voice......those carefully crafted journals, hidden away as a treasure, is a story all its own. The act of collecting the journals is voice to the experience of her mother. We can only presume the story, maybe it is saying "I am clearing the way for my daughters words" or "Everything I need to say is said by the secret act of collecting these journals, and my offering them to you". The act is rich with possibility, ambuguity, and voice. Sometimes the loudest, most profound things are said through the smallest acts. A blank book is an invitation to the newly imagined, a collected history, prayer, a roadmap of lives. There is an open-endedness to the story of this gesture, the tale that has been told and has not yet been imagined. A leagacy of continuance. Very beautiful.
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