There are few friends on the Way to freedom; most people would rather endure comfortable bondage in the arms of the System in the wide valley far below than experience the danger liberty offers. There, on the narrow path on the mountain it just keeps getting narrower until we have ditched every burden that drags us back and spend more time crawling on our knees than we do walking.
I recently discovered that we were out of quince jelly - the last batch had been made several years ago. I didn't know if or from whom I could get some more, and prayed about it the other day. This morning, our neighbour phoned and asked if I could use some quinces, as her son's tree was covered in them and he was away and couldn't pick them. So they had gone and picked them all. There were so many that they had a lot left over. Would I like some?
So we'll have some quince pie and well as quince jelly, I think. Sounds good, nicht wahr, H&B?