I, Who Have Never Heard A Sound,

True Friends Never Apart Maybe In Distance But Never In Heart

I, Who Cannot See, Find Hundreds Of Things To Interest Me Through Mere Touch. I Feel The Delicate Symmetry Of A Leaf. I Pass My Hands Lovingly About The Smooth Skin Of A Silver Birch, Or The Rough Shaggy Bark Of A Pine.

Love Is Like A Beautiful Flower Which I May Not Touch, But Whose Fragrance Makes The Garden A Place Of Delight Just The Same.

When One Door Of Hapiness Closes, Another Opens.

Silver Is Purified In Fire And So Are We. It Is In The Most Trying Times That Our Real Character Is Shaped And Revealed.