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Young Writers Society


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While you ponder this, enjoy a poem:


Hymn - He Sendeth Sun, He Sendeth Shower (1841)
by Sarah Fuller Adams

He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower,
Alike they're needful for the flower:
And joys and tears alike are sent
To give the soul fit nourishment.
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!

Can loving children e'er reprove
With murmurs whom they trust and love?
Creator! I would ever be
A trusting, loving child to thee:
As comes to me or cloud or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!

Oh, ne'er will I at life repine:
Enough that thou hast made it mine.
When falls the shadow cold of death
I yet will sing, with parting breath,
As comes to me or shade or sun,
Father! thy will, not mine, be done!


“I am not worried, Harry," said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. "I am with you.”
— Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince