In those days…I would go to the little church in the meadow when I was the most tired. Through the church door I would step out of a troublous world into a timeless serene one of peace and certitude. After a little while I would find myself becoming still inside, and then I would feel the presence of God. The faded, painted saints would pause and look at me pityingly, lovingly… their dim robes and halos glimmering in the last light of the afternoon. I would rest awhile and pray, and when I slipped through the church door again, out into the green, sweet-smelling meadow and the lucent twilight, always 1 felt that I had found the renewed strength I needed in order to go on.

– ‘The Hospital of the Queen’s Heart’