In the middle of the other night the nurses heard music from somewhere, and finally traced it down to his room, where he was singing hymns.
In a different kind of prison, one with bars of sickness and of failing mind, he was, like Paul and Silas, still singing.
George died that afternoon
ReplyDeleteI was going to say, that sounds like the kind of lucidity that comes on right before death. My condolences to the family, and to his friends.
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