Watching for light was her vocation. Light and life were one and the same thing. There would be no life without light; it was the beginning; it was the substance that made things visible, that brought humanity to an awareness of what cannot be seen. It could enhance a thing and make it holy. This she had felt in her life as in her work, a sense of reaching for harmony beyond the human experience through light itself.
A secret sympathy unites a great community. They recognize one another by a sign, by a look, by the magnetic atmosphere that each one emanates; by their silences more than by their words. Like the children of Light, they have the desire to know and to understand, to love and to believe. The countenances of the greatest among them are veiled by a strange melancholy; for the tragedy of the universe weighs heavily upon their hearts. They feel themselves responsible for it, as portions of the earthly providence that watches over human destiny. But through this veil there shines like an aureole of light the inward joy of those who behold Divinity. In the silence they are conscious of being united to all living creatures by an invisible thread.