Henrietta with Lily Rose and younger sister, Tansy

White Feathers by Henrietta Job

    A white feather drifts on the summer breeze, turning and twisting on the wind’s currents, tantalizing, spellbinding.   We always notice white feathers.   ‘Lily is preening her wings,’ someone will say, and one of my children will pick it up, absorbing an essence of their sister for a moment.  As they sense Lily’s presence, hovering, radiant, just out of sight; they feel comforted and reassured that she has not entirely left them.   As a family we have developed a connection with what lies just beyond the gossamer veil which shimmers between our physical world and the …

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