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nd loved。 The notes fascinated me。 Here was someone immersed in a search for truth and beauty。 Words had been treasured； words that were beautiful。 And I felt as if the words somehow delighted in being discovered； for they were obviously very generous to the as yet anonymous writer of the notes。 And now this person was in turn learning the secret of sharing them。 Beauty so shines when given away。 The only truth that exists is； in that sense； free。
It was a long time before I met the author of the notes。
One Sunday morning； I was told that someone was waiting for me in the office。 The young person who answered the rectory door said that it was “the woman who said she left all the notes。” When I saw her I was shocked； since I immediately recognized her from church but had no idea that it was she who wrote the notes。 She was sitting in a chair in the office with her hands folded in her lap。 Her head was bowed and when she raised it to look at me； she could barely smile without pain。 Her face was disfigured； and the skin so tight from surgical procedures that smiling or laughing was very difficult for her。 She had suffered terribly from treatment to remove the growths that had so marred her face。
We chatted for a while that Sunday morning and agreed to meet for lunch later that week。
As it turned out we went to lunch several times； and she always wore a hat during the meal。 I thought that treatments of some sort had caused a lot of her hair to fall out
