“So dreadful,” I say. “Yes.” He smiles. “There was a seventeenth-century mystic named St. Julian of Norwich. Have you heard of her?” “Yes, sir.” “She has written many beautiful lines, but the one that echoes through the world is ‘All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.’” “I don’t always believe that, sir,” I tell him. “So many bad things happen.” “Yes, they do and always will, and yet, all will be well.”
