"I remember Papa and I came up here one afternoon before he fell ill," Flindra reminisced with a tender smile. "He was so filled with the beauty of the day and this place. He seemed to make the whole world so alive that I felt blessed to share the moment with him. He told me that the beauty of the world is a mirror reflecting the grandeur and glory of the Spirit and that every day of life is a blessing from Him. He said that to notice the beauty abounding in the world is to appreciate and do homage to our Beloved Spirit."
Leudh smiled as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His blond hair was dark with sweat and his mustache tasted salty as he licked his lips. "Papa was a wise man."
Flindra handed her brother a waterskin for she knew he was tired from his labors. Digging was always difficult work and this task was made harder with the knowledge of the purpose of this effort.
Leudh put down his shovel and drank his fill. "Thank you." He returned the water to her.
"You're welcome."
"I think this is deep enough," he remarked sadly. "I'll widen it a little at the bottom and then it’ll be ready."
Flindra nodded in understanding and her eyes suddenly flooded with tears. She looked away to hide her sorrow for she had promised her father she wouldn't cry. In spite of her efforts to force back her tears, she sobbed audibly.
Leudh dug out one last shovelful of dirt, threw the spade into the heap of dirt piled to the side of the grave, and climbed out of the hole.
Flindra felt strong arms surrounded her as Leudh embraced her. "Don't be ashamed to cry, little sister. Death is always hard." His voice was husky with emotion.
"I told him I wouldn't cry, though," she protested. "I know he's finally free of pain and has returned to the Spirit, but I miss him so very much."
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