The paintings on the walls, the wonder of jeweled storybooks read over and over in the comfy chintz chair by the window, the smell of tea in the old blue china cup, popcorn smell on Friday nights, the favorite dress, the smell of cookies baking and kept in the old butter crock cookie jar. The vase that has held flowers of romance, of milestone, of a mother’s love for her child’s dandelions. These mere ‘things’ contain the mystery of Child memory. They tell us we are loved, known, and seen as unique marvels in this vast, sometimes lonely universe. That we are worthy of the mystery unfolding within us. William Morris bet his life on it.

The surprising history of how Ronald Knox’s Mass In Slow Motion was written.