In the most beautiful twilight of our happiest month, between the echoes of the greatness of our Lord, sitting together in our poor chairs. I know it’s not the best place to sit. This old chair is twenty-three years old. It’s not that we can’t replace it; it’s just that we never thought we would replace it. Who will be visited our home and sit in our chair on our Glory-Day to say the greetings? We look like a poor and dirty family. People come just to give us scorn.
Tonight, yesterday night, and years ago, we used to spend our beautiful month with our poor chair. We are memorizing all the bad things and the good things that happened. We are arranging our broken piece of heart. But we never know it will be better or not.
