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Susan Bergholz Literary Services
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San Antonio, Texas

May 1, 2011


My Lovely Readers,

I live a cloistered life, like a nun behind a screen, when I am home. But when I roam I meet you eye to eye. You squeeze my hands. You hold me in your arms. You bless and bless and bless me.

And so, today, I thank you for your love and light. For candles and meditations and requests to Divine Providence and Lupe on my behalf to open my path for me. I am a dandelion seed floating in the air right now.

You suggest I keep my old letters to you posted, and I concede this is a good idea. And so, my letters are here, old and new, for your perusal. I will continue to be a better letter writer than I've been in the past. It helps us both to correspond. I find clarity and am reminded when I meet you how faithful you are as readers.

I learned of late to nurse grief and to be kind to myself, patient even. And when done, to turn grief out. Like all guests, after a fortnight, grief is best beyond the door.

I have come back to sense and self. I will be patient where Providence dictates and leave myself an instrument to its plan. I ask to be put to use.

Today they put to death the man that put to death. Are we not guilty of the same? I have in this past decade looked with great pain at all our casualties near and far, those whom we call citizens, and those whom we call enemy, and I mourn for all the victims and all the survivors. An electrician from Queens who lost his brother in the Twin Towers said "justice" is a word for politicians, he knows it only as "revenge."

This fifty-sixth year of my life, I know I know nothing. I have so much to learn and a desire to become the wise person I long to be. I bow with gratitude to all my teachers.