Madeleine L'Engle.
Madeleine L'Engle's death last week marked the first time i shed tears for someone i had never met. In a way, it's as though she raised me. I feel a deep sense of loss. She died the same day Pavarotti died. I love music; I love Opera. I even have my BA in that field. But never have i felt such a soul-connection with those things as the connection i felt with Madeleine. I absolutely devour her writings. The mild panic and dismay in my heart was great when i realized that the voice who (for all intents and purposes) had given me so much of my self had been silenced.
but i have not ceased to learn from her. I haven't fully digested everything yet, and i salved my wound by making my way through Two-Part Invention; The Story of a Marriage. I suppose a voice that great cannot easily be stilled.
I am just sad never to have met her, talked with her, asked questions of her.
It is rather peculiar. Peculiar to grieve the loss of someone who never even knew my name. Naming plays an important part in her writing. It is likely that even had we met she would not have been able to recall my name for ever, but the important thing is that she gave me one. Her writing has named me, marked me. It is with deepest gratitude to God that I acknowledge her life, her work and her spirit. May God grant me equal grace on my journey, and may He continue to do with me that which is pleasing to Himself alone.
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