My son, my daughter,
My dear Mama also did nothing extraordinary in Her exterior life
Even more, apparently She did less than others.
She lowered Herself to the most ordinary actions of life:
She would spin, sew, sweep, light the fire.…
Who would ever have thought that She was the Mother of a God?
Her external actions indicated nothing of this.
So, She lived from my eternal Heartbeat,
and I from Her maternal heartbeat.
Therefore our Lives were blended together.
And this was exactly what, in my eyes, distinguished Her as my Mama.(…)