Lynn J., a fellow Quaker, exudes beauty and light.
Her flawless skin–rosy, porcelain–reminds me of a soft English rose I once photographed on a rainy February day near Oxford train station.
Hardy in all sorts of weather.
She once faced bitter betrayal,
and even her body plays cruel tricks on her
as she leans on her walker, shaken by MS.
Her peace testimony soaks her bones, upholds her smile and propels her from bed (even when her body pins her undercovers)
Her face responds to suffering, not by growing hard and sallow, but miraculously exudes more beauty and light each day.