“Eventually, as her grandmother’s sobs softened, she pulled her away and – looking deeply into the clouds of her grey eyes – lifted her and led her home for the last time.”

“She looked over at her grandmother, smiling in her sleep from what she hoped was a dream about George Bailey and the angel that would eventually save him.”

“Parker fixated on the envelope's precise penmanship as she lifted it. Her grandmother rarely took the time to write her own name in the return address, let alone give it the aesthetic attention that this one so seemed to demand. Once, when Parker questioned her on this, her grandmother casually asserted that she "didn't quite believe in envelopes" as if this were a debatable concept like Socialism or wearing white after Labor Day.”

“She sat on the stoop alone, gazing up at an infinite sky as it held her and pushed her away all at once.”

“She looked up and saw the right angles of time above her as the clock hit three.”

“This was the place where someone had led her, only she could not remember who and could not remember when. Just that this was where she was now.”

“Her past was finally speaking to her in a language she understood.”