The quiet settled upon them both. It settled so deeply that both Isaac and Sarah could hear that soothing purring of which Starlight was a master. In those purring moments, Isaac always drifted into the mystical peace that would come upon him from time to time, a deep, deep peace within his soul that, in spite of all things, lie was good, very good. But this time, even Starlight's magical purr could not pull him free of Sarah's uneasiness.
Isaac knew that Sarah was wrestling with a thought, maybe a question, that had yet found its opportunity to make itself known.
"You need to find the words to tell me what is bothering you so."
Sarah received Isaac's plea with one of those beautiful, gentle smiles that were like a soft kiss upon his cheek.
She was struggling. She was trying to give him the words he needed to hear. But the words would not come. Not yet. Isaac would wait, but he would ask again.
And Sarah would try again.
Isaac thought as he gazed upon her, "She fears that we will never find the world I know is there and she fears that we may lose forever the world we know is here. ... O God of all the Sky, why can we not live in both the world out there beyond the glass and the world in here within the glass."
"Ishmael," the whisper surrounded his soul as his hand grasped the book. He pulled it off the shelf and drew it before his eyes. The book felt sturdy in his hand, a book made to last forever. It had the look of books that came from ancient times, the dark brown leather, the hand sewn stitching, the paper of handcrafted weight, coarse with ragged edges. Yet this book was clearly of recent vintage,made by some soul who loved his craft.
When Ishmael returned to the table and he opened the book, the turning of the first page led to a hand-written title page, written in a most gracious, elegant feminine hand. It read, The Diary of Rachel, a Dreamer of God.
Ishmael paused as tears well up in his eyes for Rachel was the name of departed love. As he turned the page, he began to hear her voice.