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Snow | ||
| Snow may be coming with many a flake. Yet I shall fear not the pathway to take. Though the north wind may blow snow in my face I still can make it safe back to this place. Snow, after all, is a gift from above, Sent by our Father who tends us with love. Though for a time it our bodies will pelt, Sun will prevail and then cause it to melt. Though I may wish for an end to the snow I shall not shudder; I'll just let it blow. | ||
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