Friend of Marie’s Mother Rosemarie

Word’s of Comfort

My Dear Rosemarie and Family, Jesus said,”Let not your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms, If it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you; and if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am.” John 14.

God has fulfilled every promise He has ever made. He promised us comfort when we’re sad, rest when we’re tired, hope when we feel hopeless, strength when we are weak and peace in the midst of confusion, to be a mother for the motherless and a friend unlike any other.
God has given us all one more thing, so many memories!!!.

And remember this, God the Father lost His only Son, Jesus Christ, on calvary, but was reunited 3 days later. There willl come a day when you will be reunited with Marie, never to be separated again!!!

Just imagine Marie stepping on shore and finding it heaven, of taking hold of a hand and finding it God’s hand. Just imagine her breathing in new air and finding it heaven’s air, of feeling invigorated and finding immortality, Just imagine her passing from a storm of earthly suffering and pain, no more bombs, and danger, but finding eternal calm, just imagine waking up in heaven and finding it to be her new home.

When Great Trees Fall
Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.
When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
gnaws on kind words
promised walks
never taken.
Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold caves.
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.

Marie’s life journey, her courage and all that she did to bring the world’s attention to the powerless victims of war, and rebellion will never be obsolete. Future generations of journalists will learn from her life and follow in her footsteps.

May God Bless You All