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She asked Mommy to come to her place to have lunch with her soon after that. She was a little afraid for Mommy to come, but she wanted her to. She was afraid because she didn't know how shocked Mommy might be when she got there. The Episcopal Church Emmanuel was just one block away from the building, on Cathedral and Read. The apartment was on Cathedral and Madison at the corner, and the little top windows looked out on the tower of Emmanuel Church. This is important to remember.

Mommy climbed up the three flights of stairs and walked in where she had been before, with me, in her dream. She felt very, very happy but very, very mystified.

They had lunch, and Mommy suddenly felt she wanted to write.

She walked over to a bookcase and started to look through the books-this was just a few weeks after I had gone away from her-and she saw a little book. It was Ralph Waldo Emerson's Birthday Book, and she opened it to a page, and there it said "March the second"-that was my birthday.

There was a little poem that Emerson had written:

The world rolls 'round
Mistrust it not
Befalls again what once befell
All things return,
Both sphere and mote
And I shall hear my bluebird's note
And dream the dream of Auburn Dell."March the Second" by Ralph Waldo Emerson(7)

You see, a few days before then, Mommy and Daddy had driven to the cemetery, and they drove up to the top of the hill where there is a memorial park where there weren't any tombstones.

I had told Mommy lots of times, "I like a cemetery that looks like a park because then you don't think about death; you think about life and beauty."

There was a beautiful plaque there, and it said, "He maketh me to lie down in green pastures."

Linda Suzanne Wasserman
Born March 2, 1942
Died November 16, 1950

There was a beautiful rose next to my name. I loved roses very much.

The day they drove there, as they came to the top of the hill, there were bluebirds, hundreds and hundreds of bluebirds circling around the place where my name was. After a little while they flew away. They have never been there since.

Mommy picked up another book after awhile. It was Shelley's poetry. She found his "Ode to the West Wind." She felt very close to me as she read it. Suddenly, she decided to start writing a play with me in it with music and poetry, carrying on our ideas together for the radio program to help other children who like to learn about beautiful music and poetry and all about God.

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