proust

home, finally

A dear, dear, friend, is angry with me, and I haven't spoken with her in months. I recently found a card she gave me after the start of the year. The front cover reads:

Let us be grateful
to people who make
us happy; they are
the charming
gardeners
who make our
souls blossom.
(Thank You.)

-Marcel Proust

Inside, she wrote a lovely inscription ending with, "I am so grateful for your friendship this year."

I open the card, read the inscription, and close it with a sigh.