“Donny recovered herself. “Dude, that was the seventh sign of the apocalypse. I’m so not going to class on the last day of the world.”

“Then you'd better listen, because me sounding like Bronte is one of the signs of the apocalypse-and if the end fo the world is coming, good deeds could earn you Judgment day brownie points.”

“Could be. I’m a pretty dangerous dude when I’m cornered.”“Yeah,” said the voice from under the table, “you go to pieces so fast people get hit by the shrapnel.”

“Well, once I had recovered from childbirth -" then she caught herself short, and smiled. "What a ridiculous expression; I see now that I shall be recovering until the day I die.”

“Creation’s seventh sunriseWe stand before the burning bush of timeThe six days were goodBut the seventh He called holyCreation’s seventh sunriseWe wake and go to work six days a weekTo struggle with the strain and stressBut the Lords’ provided for the care of our soulsA day of rejoice and restCreation’s seventh sunriseWe stand before the burning bush of timeThe six days were goodBut the seventh He called holyCreation’s seventh sunriseCome see a sanctuary made of timeCome speak forgotten words of prayerIt calls us, “Come away from your dissonant days” “Come out and breathe the garden air.” (leave your worries there) Creation’s seventh sunriseWe stand before the burning bush of timeThe six days were goodBut the seventh He called holyCreation’s seventh sunriseAnd the promise of that rest still standsTo all who would be freeAnd though we might be bound by timeWe can taste Eternity”

“This is the first year for me as a teacher and, by the looks of this class, I’m hoping it won’t be my last.”