As last month I focussed on love, I found myself enticed by the idea that I would pick one of the aspects of the fruit of the spirit, and focus on it each month.
I have a fond memory, that from time to time fades into view, flitting across my memory like a child playing hide and seek, like a butterfly in summer, never resting long enough to truly be seen.
My memory is not as remarkable as a butterfly nor as entertaining as the child, but it is of me as a child.
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