I believed myself beautiful. Beauty is a promise which no woman has ever kept. I have seen my features in the glass, but I have not looked for the mission to which I was appointed. What human being ever perceives that he wears a distinctive badge?
The wind redoubles in strength and howls in the face of the sky. The rain-spout near the window is choking, the drops rap-tap-tap on the pane: "What have you done? What have you done?"
Lord, I am looking myself in the face. While waiting for the light to appear and the clouds to scatter, for the damp air to shine between the drops of sunlight, for the good genius who must teach us to grow old, for the inaccessible perfection for which I was built, I look and look at myself....
I went to the window to watch the storm and smoothe my hair. Leaning toward the mirror it was God I found.
God is there, I see Him approaching when I approach and smiling when I smile, God who carries me and whom I carry, God palpitating with faith, God who lowers His head....
There's no good-bye to say, it is late, everything is ready, and yet I am stifling in this empty room, which lives only through my sleeping son and me.
I hardly recognize him when he sleeps, and I have to go close to him. He fell asleep a moment ago and is lying exactly the way I placed him, with his arm outstretched. Is there anything tenderer and frailer to behold than this little rounded face with its fine veins and pearly curves? Beneath his sleep and the warmth of his cheeks, life is working, and what a hurry it is in!
I lean down closer, almost touching the fine down of gold on his forehead, his velvety warmth, his scarcely perceptible breath. As always, I feel both terrified and transported by this immense littleness, and consumed by a longing to put my lips to him.... I draw back: I must not wake him up.
I move away from the crib. The will to question the present which is passing takes a stronger hold of me this evening than usual.
The best in me, the true, God, and my soul do not concern you.
Perhaps I am too hasty in saying this. Perhaps I have paid too much attention to the gulf between my generation and the old blind generation. Probably the gulf between your generation and mine is not so deep, but when I look carefully I do not find that you are the profound motive.