Will you be my refuge, My haven in the storm, Will you keep the embers warm, When my fire's all but gone? Will you remember, And bring me sprigs of rosemary, Be my sanctuary, 'Til I can carry on, Carry on.
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Amy tightened an arm around his neck and announced in a loud voice, "I was with them big angels, and they runned in front of me and left me and I gotted lost!"
"So it occurs to me," the preacher said, "that many of us may be leaving small angels behind. Are we neglecting to help those who would benefit from our love? ... Just a thought," he said, smiling.