Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 68

           Mysandalsonthesoftdewygrassmadethissound:shippa-shippa-shippa-shippa,andthatwastheonlysoundinthewholevalley.IwassoexultantIranstraighttotheclumpofeucalyptustreesinthemiddleofthepark(wheretheysayanancienttempleusedtostand,honoringthegodGanesh-theremoverofobstacles)andIthrewmyarmsaroundoneofthosetrees,whichwasstillwarmfromtheday’sheat,andIkisseditwithsuchpassion.Imean,Ikissedthattreewithallmyheart,noteventhinkingatthetimethatthisistheworstnightmareofeveryAmericanparentwhosechildhaseverrunawaytoIndiatofindherself-thatshewillenduphavingorgieswithtreesinthemoonlight.

           Butitwaspure,thislovethatIwasfeeling.Itwasgodly.IlookedaroundthedarkenedvalleyandIcouldseenothingthatwasnotGod.Ifeltsodeeply,terriblyhappy.Ithoughttomyself,"Whateverthisfeelingis-thisiswhatIhavebeenprayingfor.AndthisisalsowhatIhavebeenprayingto."

           

Содержание книги
Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 318 из 515