I should have realised how unwise yesterday's blog post was. Just before lunch we went into the garage and discovered that a minor disaster had struck. The boxes of books we had stored there for want of space elsewhere were wet, from the ground up. Consternation! Then an unexpected visitor called so naturally we offered her lunch (not an onerous task, she was very welcome, but we were distracted and I fear it showed). Finally, we were able to get into the garage to start moving boxes and assess the damage. It was a sad sight: Digitalnun was wearing the kind of expression she reserves for sick dogs and ailing plants, while Handynun was "tsk" "tsk"ing about having yet another area to clear up (we have a leaking radiator inside the house which has been bothersome all week). A little investigation revealed the cause of the trouble, but drying out dozens and dozens of damp books is not going to be easy. Gloom settled upon the community, especially as there are other urgent tasks to be done. I think there may even have been one or two baby grumbles rumbling up from the depths.

Then we noticed a book with Haiti in the title and were ashamed. Yes, our loss is real, but it in no way compares with the loss the people of Haiti have experienced or the difficulties they face every day. We treasure our books, but we shouldn't invest so much of our hearts in them. The gospel is clear about that kind of thing. We dream of having more space, of being able to do things that are at present impossible; and I am confident that one day we shall; but for now we must relearn the lesson. In small things as in big, God is in charge. Sometimes you just have to begin all over again.