Year of Wonders

by Geraldine Brooks

And so, as generally happens, those who have most give least, and those with less somehow make shrift to share. By

Why, I wondered, was God so much more prodigal with his Creation? Why did He raise us up out of the clay, to acquire good and expedient skills, and then send us back so soon to be dust when we yet had useful years before us?

I have heard some preach that God wants us to forget the dead, but I cannot believe so. I think He gives us precious recollections so that we may not be parted entirely from those He has given us to love. You must cherish your memories of your babes, Anna, until you see them again in Heaven.”

If we balanced the time we spent contemplating God, and why He afflicted us, with more thought as to how the Plague spread and poisoned our blood, then we might come nearer to saving our lives.

At first, none of us marked it. Then, when we began to do so, we none of us spoke of it. Superstition, hope, disbelief—all these made pact with our old friend, fear, and prevented us from doing so.

Just before dawn, when I might have been exhausted enough for sleep, the gulls would awaken and scream in the sky as if the world were ending at sunrise. In