Photos by the author, Deeann D. Mathews, January 22, 26, 29, and February 5
At that same kitchen table at which I spent so much time in 2022 and 2023 in anguish, I recently listened to the Benedictus from Bruckner's F Minor Mass for the who-knows-how-many-times time and suddenly realized something that was just going right over my head last summer ... something Bruckner did here in its utter necessity did not strike me until that night ...
... the word of blessing -- "Benedictus" -- is followed by high praise to the One in Whose name the blessing flows, for of course "Hosanna in excelsis" would come out to "Hosanna in the highest," and is a quote recognizing Christ as the Messiah in Scripture ... and there is even more technicality in Hebrew from which 'Hosanna' comes ...
... but we're not going there, because there's no way Bruckner intended for things to be taken as that complex (although they are). The juxtaposition is simpler: love blesses, and is affirmed in loving to the highest by gratitude. Big love meets big gratitude: it is as simple as that, and had me sobbing at my table, completely overwhelmed by gratitude, because promises made in December 2023 and 2024 were indeed kept from Heaven to Earth by late January of this year, which indeed freed me to enter a new phase of my life this month.
It all came together while I was resting in the course of having minded my business and doing everything I was called to do ... folks just came out of the blue on me ... kind of like it happened to a bird-catcher named Henry one day ... he was just keeping track of and thanking God for a good catch when up came all these folks who wanted to make him emperor ... kind of like some youngster who was playing cello while able to sing along with even the lowest notes was eventually observed and told, "Kurt, with that voice -- you should try singing!" and ended up recording that song about Henry the Birder -- Löwe's "Heinrich der Vogler"!
If you can speak German -- or, perhaps, read the lyrics translated into English -- one finds out something very interesting. Of course Heinrich does not know he is going to be emperor, but one sees him knowing his job but also knowing he cannot cause the right birds to find him ... so he is grateful there in a small matter, and is just as grateful in the big matter, knowing he did not call himself to be emperor! This brings to mind a very old quote:
He that is faithful in little shall be faithful in much.
The converse is also true ... but some people can never get to the last part because ... well, I could say it this way: I know it has taken me to age 44 to be ready for certain things, to have the discipline necessary to use this freedom well. I have so much temptation on the side of doing too much that resting, and being enabled to rest more, would have been wasted on me, prior to having Covid-19 and thus, in recovery, learning how to deeply rest from July 2024 onward.
I don't think I'm going to do a "bird-herder to emperor" type of transition ... that's a big, big jump ... but I've already done "community servant to best-selling author and internationally known composer" under terrible strain ... 2022 and 2023 were horrific ... but now, what will I be able to do in this new situation?
Whatever it is, the loving generosity of the Blessed Hand has me at a point in which it is going to take me much longer than usual to write this, because the gratitude I feel is pretty much at Knockout Zone levels of intensity. I understand now why my grand old soldier and other elders start shouting in church better than I did before ... temperamentally I am quite different, but one still can't be sitting at the table sitting to Bruckner and falling out sobbing and/or forgetting to breathe at the thought of what one has come through to this place and getting light-headed and falling out, period.
I'm going to have to pace myself ... this is going to take a long, long walk... starting at this appropriately fitting golden dawn as a recent storm's last remnants were clearing the sky ...
Of course, because I have been ill, the whole idea of me walking all day, beginning in a beautiful but very cold winter dawn, to work some things out in my mind was bound to meet with some fussing ...
"Frau Mathews, absolut nicht! Nein! Nie!"
The Ghost of Musical Greatness Past walked through the wall in full basso profondo fussing mode, having forgotten yet again that he isn't even on my security detail even though he played a knight more than once in his mortal career. But I suppose that is what always happens when such a man gets interested in a woman's well-being -- my father and my grand old soldier would have fussed just as much, which is why I had a better idea.
"I was planning a panorama of several little non-fiction walks appropriate to my state of health and the winter's cold, so only in Q-Inspired will I do it in one day."
"You mean we, because even in fiction, that is too far and too long for you to go alone -- and you have a fictional bus card to go with your actual one, too -- I insist that you practice good habits on both sides of the fourth wall, Frau Mathews!"
He had already gone by a store, and out he came with this golden dawn-blushed beauty of a pear!
"I have my little water bottles, too," I said, and showed him.
"That's a good start. Expect to be having at least one proper meal if not that with Kaffee und Kuchen as well -- I will even reverse the order of those to fit your country's early coffee break times -- but you will not be doing this all-day-walk without being properly provisioned. I have no right to actually tell you no -- forgive my overstepping earlier in my passion -- but not on my watch on my side of the fourth wall will you do this without proper pacing and provision!"
He was riled up, but, this was the other side of love from a man's perspective, and I recognized it.
"Thank you for loving me. You really don't have to be bothered, but I'm grateful that it matters to you that much."
He put his arms around me.
"You are no bother, Frau Mathews! The fact that you even say it illustrates my concern! I often feel that you do not know how precious you are, and how to be gentle to yourself so that you may set that standard for others also! It is my hope that on both sides of the fourth wall, you will in this year continue to learn how to walk as one deeply loved and provided for, and that there not be any lapse on my side in my stewardship of that reality."
"You have been a faithful steward, and I thank you."
"That is required of me," he said. "It should not be thought of as extraordinary -- although in a deeply irresponsible time it must seem that way. However, it is the minimum standard to expect. I so deeply desire that you learn this! Valentine's Day is tomorrow on the day that Hive sees this post -- people will be buying this and that and doing so much of everything as a performance -- but it must be under-girded by at least the minimum standard, for as you have said, love does not exist where it is merely performed!"
He was indeed deeply stirred up and was instructing but still gently fussing ... but it took time for a warm personality, thoroughly roused up, to get calmed down. There was also the reality that while he held on to me, there was no going out into that cold morning. He had meant what he said --
Frau Mathews, absolut nicht! Nein! Nie!
-- and subconsciously was now communicating it even more powerfully, even though consciously, he had acquiesced! Still a human man, indeed, and, he did have a point. Rarely did I walk winter mornings, and so to my body, it would be unusually cold. All I was thinking of was being out in this golden dawn, and he was thinking of winter cold being deadly and had literally gotten into the way of my planned Winterreise -- yes, that was how he was looking at it, because as ever, he was blocking the path!
So I ripped off the melody and the general idea of the first line of "Gute Nacht," and made it a good morning by taking the major-key melody of the last verse.
"Friend came you ever to my home, and friendly we will soon go out
We'll wait until it's warm enough, so safety will not be a doubt!
I know you act from loving me; I know that, my dear heart
So we will wait in happiness, with gratitude my part!"
Now you wouldn't think that my singing would affect him like his affected me, but somehow this completely got to him ... of course he was tickled by me just ripping Schubert off on the spot ... but he got quiet at that third line, and melted at the end of the fourth.
"Dein Herz hat mein Herz gehört!" he cried, all his English just going away with the tension in his person.
"Yes, my heart has heard your heart," I said.
He laughed.
"Vergib mir, bitte ... ich habe mein Englisch wieder verloren."
"I know ... lost the English again ... I forgive you ... and we have time."
So I halved that pear, scooped out the core, put cinnamon on the halves and then warmed them a little, and then filled the core space with chunky peanut butter. Before doing that I turned on the Benedictus again ... he hummed the orchestral bass and then sang the choral bass before his solo part and duet part, and then was perfectly quiet as Karila Mattila sang her lovely part ... between listening to that and watching me elevate the breakfast he had brought me, he became overjoyed ... just got blessed right in front of me.
"I still need to make some tea," I said softly as the music turned to reprise its main theme, "so if you need a moment to go back home and get some fruits off the tallest tree in Paradise, you can."
He shook his head with a smile as he handed me my tea assortment box.
"Ich bin voll ... mein Herz ist erfüllt ... ."
When the fiery Hosanna section came on, he was all too ready, even just singing his tiny duet part and the choral bass ... he had stood to his feet, and I just turned the music all the way up and let him enjoy those memories and the present reason he was in that mood. This would have been a considerable risk, except me giving humble thanks on high for my food and for the one who had presented that pear to me drew heaven and earth close enough for my home and neighborhood to withstand him getting quite to the limit of his approximation of his mortal voice, singing that bass part out of his full heart ... and then his look at me as I put the piece on loop ...
"I mean, since we're elevating the breakfast, let's just go on and elevate it," I said. "I'll catch you in the alto the third time around after I eat all this."
He materialized the sheet music out of thin air for us, and there we stood that third time, me sight-singing my alto choral parts and duet parts and one little solo part in the Hosanna while he sang the choral bass parts and solo parts and I sang the tenor parts in his duets and both were silent for Ms. Mattila ... my mind went back to the summer breezes in the park that last summer and my deep, peaceful happiness. I had that moment to be overcome with gratitude for those days again, and then carry that across to the Hosanna -- and wouldn't you know it, Bruckner was right -- that is how you are supposed to do that! Afterward, my sing-it-yourself Benedictus partner wrapped his arms around me in his joy.
"Danke schön, Frau Mathews ... danke schön, danke schön," he said.
"Gleichfalls, danke schön," I said. "Likewise, thank you very much."
By this time it had warmed up enough -- so then I got my hat, jacket, and extra fluffy scarf for the day ...
He looked at my outfit, smiled, went back to costuming for a moment, then returned with sweatsuit and jacket and backpack, basically all black, but also with a deep burgundy scarf and trim to his jacket and pack that set off his attire and recalled the dominant colors of mine.
"Aw," I said. "We're complementary ... going to really mess some people over with the romantic comedy of errors, eh?"
"Today was not the day for my pink and purple polka dots," he said.
"So you're coming back to English like that, eh?" I said as I broke out laughing. "Dressed conservatively but still completely outrageous!"
"Well, as I said in an interview, I already know with this voice I can put an entire opera house to sleep, but you do not want to find yourself tucked in here again just yet."
"Not yet!" I said, and we laughed. "Actually, I have errands to work into the day's walking ... I'd like to go up to the Fuchsia Dell, but then I have to loop from there past Alvord Lake and along Haight Street."
"Delightful ... there are plenty of buses and coffee shops ... perhaps we can go back to the beautiful place where we left our hearts in San Francisco, and I will buy you a coffee," he said.
"And confused folks into relief and joy," I said. "But you know, your fanbase in Golden Gate Park is getting very large, and that's just a little up Buena Vista Hill from there."
"They are not generally looking for me this early," he said, "but I see your point. Let me think about that, Frau Mathews, as we go. I have the bus timing on your street memorized, and our ride to the Fuchsia Dell will be at the stop in just ten minutes. Put those packages in my pack, too."
Despite the winter chill settling in earnest on San Francisco, spring and love just would not leave the Fuchsia Dell entirely alone ... there was fruit for me to eat ...
... bushes in bloom ...
... and the way to my favorite out-of-the way little seat was arched with spring.
"Here I sat when you first sang 'Heinrich der Vogler' for me, with the birds singing in the symphony of summer overhead," I said.
"I remember," he said. "That was quite a day, Frau Mathews, to enjoy."
"I thought of that song by Löwe again in quite the state of mind," I said.
"I know," he said. "I was rehearsing in the choir on high when rehearsal was paused, and I was told to look. I am not ashamed to say, Frau Mathews, that I was instantly undone to see you at that table where at times in past years I had to sing you to sleep because you could not sleep for pain of heart and body ... to see you there, overwhelmed with gratitude and joy ... ."
He paused for a moment ... and the city quivered as physics, even with the Q-Inspired enhancements, strained because of the depth of his emotions, and the power it took to restrain them within Earth's limits.
"I could not get to the throne room fast enough to thank the Blesser ... He being omnipresent graciously condescended to my finite limits and met me there as I fell down in thanks and praise and worship -- essentially doing what you were doing, except much, much louder ... and overcome by knowing much more, at that proximity, of the rejoicing far greater than mine over your coming to peace and joy in your life, as you have been called!"
He paused again, and the quiver in the city increased ... this was an actual quake ...
"Excuse me, please, Frau Mathews, for a few moments ... even talking about the matter has roused up a shout in me your world cannot contain!"
"Go give honor to Whom it is due, where it is best done," I said, "and I shall also direct my gratitude and praise and worship there, though I cannot yet be there in person."
I took the time alone to do what I often do on the non-fiction side of the fourth wall: prayer and journaling, concurrently, and had a marvelous time with Him Who has called me, for He, being omnipresent, graciously condescended to be there as well. I thus have been less alone, walking in the past four years, than in any year before save with my grand old soldier.
Yet on the fictional side of the fourth wall, my companion returned in good time, and, being concerned that I might have gotten a little chilled, sat to my windward this time.
"I had meant to say, and will say now," he said, "that love and gratitude, to the highest levels, are in a pattern of call and response. We tend to start as human beings with 'ask, and it shall be given unto you.' So many people stop there and never know the deep, deep riches of love and gratitude ... when you have asked, and been grateful for love affirming you with every portion of the answer as you labor along the way by faith, and then receive a blessing in full, and often more than what you asked, and then are grateful, and are affirmed by love in that gratitude ... again, and again, and again ... then when you learn that you do not even need to come for any particular felt need, but can give thanks for any blessing past, present, or promised in the future, and have love affirm you in that gratitude ... "
"What you describe there at the end must be how it is always on high," I said, "and, since the second form is possible along with the first down here -- now that's a life to live!"
"That is the life you are called to, Frau Mathews! We are only speaking of a difference in location now!
"Last year I spoke with you of loving and learning to be loved, and in the second half of the year, granted the summer rest that came with recovering from Covid, you began to settle into being loved well. Now, I show you another aspect of loving and being loved, between two or any number, each unlocking for one another opportunities to experience all the blessing that gratitude brings! On the non-fiction side of the fourth wall, you write in your journals all the things you are grateful for and understand this experience daily ... in your 'duotude' with your grand old soldier, you and he shared this experience, although you did not have the language to conceptualize all of it then."
"Yes ... I was thinking of this before you returned. I eventually dismissed all other walking partners because they were 'out of tune.' Not that any two humans can always be in tune themselves, but there is a difference between occasionally being out and sliding further and further out ... so, I came to value my solitude more for then it was only me who had to tune up ... and suddenly I was hearing the song of all Creation and was part of it again."
"You found your alto harmony part," my companion said, and then made his voice very gentle, "although I know how you miss that bass harmony."
Tears came from my eyes, but they, too, were partially of joy.
"I am so grateful for the time that I did have, in harmony with my grand old soldier ... he recently was feeling well enough to lead a hymn at a service I attended last month, and I sat on the front row and sang alto with him ... one more opportunity... I was so grateful for just one more, for I know he is coming for his seat in the bass section where you are, in due time."
"I am glad that you have seen how gratitude is the key to not being robbed of any present joy because of the anticipation of future grief," he said gently.
"Thank you, today, for bringing that joy back to me for just a little while, in singing Bruckner," I said. "Your voices are very different, but both lovely in the same way: reverent, and grateful."
"You hear me so deeply," he said, "because of him, Frau Mathews. He showed you love in the key of bass, so then you started hearing it everywhere ... just like you being in tune with all Creation .... gratitude is a joyful sound, and when one's ears have been opened ... who knows ... ."
I cracked up laughing as he ripped off "Some Enchanted Evening" ever so beautifully:
"Some bright, grateful morning
You may hear a tenor,
And make him the winner,
For his joyful sound,
Will sound all around
In the key of your heart,
As you are called!
"You know you are making that tenor's life harder as you go, Herr Basso Profondo Buffo!" I said. "Now if there is a tenor, I shall be grateful for him and not discriminate, so long as he is in tune where it matters!
"Of course, for so he and you will be called together," he said gently. "But until then, you do well to avoid close connection with those who do not hear what you hear, in tune with a grateful universe."
We listened, then, to the peace of winter ... plenty joggers passed through the dell on the main path, but other than that we were alone there and content for the last hour before the next part of my day.
"You are radiant," my companion at last murmured to me as I checked the time. "I have said to you before and say again that quietude is exceptionally lovely on you. I will make a recommendation for later in the year: time permitting, you could take two little walks, one in the early morning, one in the afternoon."
"That's daring in terms of time usage," I said.
"You are forgetting, Frau Mathews, that this is a year in which you are being given greater rest. Gratitude can be shown by acting in the manner intended ... and I think you may even see today how your necessary business will go better for this morning walk."
"I'm willing to consider it," I said. "A life already off the beaten path would become even more so ... but you are right. I am being given greater rest, so I should take it, gratefully."
"There are other ways to make the same consideration," he said. "You have the winter to consider all these things."
"Oh, this is why you agreed to do this ... we're doing a eine andere Winterreise, a different winter's journey."
"Genau -- precisely," he said. "No Schubert today!"
"We are not going where his character is going," I said.
"Different destination, different journey," he said with a smile, and then rose and offered me his hand.
"Thank you," I said as I took it and stood.
Once back onto the main path ...
"The way of the wise goes upward," I kidded him as we surveyed the little hill we would climb out of the dell.
"Yes!" he said. "A different winter's journey, indeed!"
Haight Street's flowers surely knew we were coming in the quiet of the morning ... as it often was at Alvord Lake, they seemed to have found their spring ...
... yet the conversation was workaday enough because it was, in fact, a working morning on Haight Street ... I had packages to get here and there, supplies to pick up, mobile business to do as messages came in and appointments had to be made. Even though I do work walking into everything, the work still has to be done.
The Echo Watchman observed and assisted quite seamlessly ... I never touched a door or lifted anything of any size, and when we went into quieter parallel streets for me to take calls, he watched all around, accounting for the lack of foot traffic.
"Danke!" I kept saying, and he kept smiling and saying "Bitte!" So there we were, glowing up in the middle of the workaday world. I noticed goodly numbers of men noticing him happily doing for me, and the envy was real, because they could see his spirit was being warmed and fed instantly by my constant expression of gratitude. Most of these men would not have ordinarily paid any attention to me -- too old, too large -- but they could see how happy he was, and they wanted that! But I had never been available to men who brought nothing but want!
So, the busy streets and the envious were left right where they were as the envied one and I walked back down into Golden Gate Park for me to do calls and emails in a more focused way. Again, he watched so I could fully concentrate and get done with that.
"I gotta go back up to the post office," I said at last, "and then I will be ready to walk on to gratefully receive whatever delicious treats you have in mind for me! I so enjoyed the lunches you brought me in the summer and fall ... they were so satisfying!"
He chuckled.
"So, you see and hear me out here in Golden Gate Park, making all this hat change to stuff you with fine food, and what you want is a sandwich or robust salad and some fruit."
"I do have to be careful," I said. "I have been ill, and one of the reasons I have been resilient is that I'm really constraining my sugars. I really have to do a serious uphill walk before or after Kaffee and Kuchen, and since we are pacing me today, and since we insist that I maintain good habits on both sides of the fourth wall ... ."
His chuckle deepened.
"Was it Shakespeare who said that a man was hoisted on his own petard?"
"It was," I purred. "The perils of being explosively excitable, in a nutshell, with a woman who permits no man to speak roughly to her."
The chuckle hit his double-deep range.
"That is the most gentle and yet thorough rebuke ... ."
"Well, you actually judged yourself with the Shakespeare comment," I said sweetly, "so I just affirmed you and let you know you're right!"
I grinned, and he dissolved into true laughter.
"The professor learns a lesson as the student turns the tables! I see you do have a standard about gentle treatment, after all!"
"I could have just told you that," I said, "or, since you presented yourself the opportunity, let you experience it. Now I know you said what you said out of love, and you were right, after all, so we're just lovingly working all that out."
"But hard go it for anyone who -- klar," he said. "This is wisdom I am glad to know you have, and I will remember this reminder ... du bist mein Blumenkind, aber auch meine Eisernfrau -- my flower child, but also still the Iron Woman. The reminder is received, Frau Mathews!"
"And, I appreciate you caring about me being out in the cold: you were right," I said. "Danke."
"Bitte. Thank you for choosing to understand even though my approach was too warm for you -- likewise, thank you."
"You're welcome."
Back up to Haight Street and the post office ... folks looked at us as if we were bringing the sun up the hill with us as the sky began to clear again ... he was telling me all the names of things in German while we waited in line -- "Die Post" of course I knew was roughly the same in German as it was in English, but since Schubert was under the ban for our winter day's journey, I did not bring it up! But there were other terms to discuss, and the way my mind works about how things made it into English often tickled him. That laugh, as sweet as it was deep, dark, and immense, echoed around in that solid building with hard floors and had people smiling!
At last done, and traveling Haight Street toward Buena Vista Park proper ... again to be made happy as more of spring's early heralds greeted us...
... and he was so happy he softly reprised "Heinrich der Vogler" as we walked below the park, and there I noticed again what had struck me every time I had heard him singing it.
"At the end, that last line ... while walking you broke stride, and every time, your voice catches right there," I said.
"I cannot get past Heinrich, made emperor, saying what he does -- I will rough-cut it into the nearer King James English: 'Thou hast given me a good catch -- Lord God, as it has pleased Thee!"' I cannot get past because I was a little German villager born in the most shameful time in my nation's history ... yet the same God did as it pleased Him in raising me to the acclaim and the love of the world of classical musicians and music lovers. I cannot get past it. I am not supposed to ever get past it. Love predetermined out of eternity without regard to the low estate of the receiver requires eternal gratitude."
"I understand," I said. "This is why your voice, with all its joy, strikes my heart so: I understand ... it is like the little fruit I get to pick even in the winter ... every piece is precious, because it reminds me of the love behind it."
"Yes, that is it. That is why it did not matter to me if my part was small ... I was so grateful, Frau Mathews!"
"We were, and are, blessed and blessed," I said. "Wir sind gesegnet, und wir sind selig ... und wir sind dankbar ... we are grateful."
"To the utmost, and that brings us back to Bruckner ... big love, answered by big gratitude. You heard it correctly!"
"But now let me bring this down to where you still live in the world -- if I am of a mind to love you, can I be of a mind to hurt you?"
"No."
"If I am grateful to you, can I be of a mind to hurt you?"
"No."
"If I see you as someone who is part of the great blessing I have received in my life, even if I do not know you yet and how, can I be of a mind to hurt you?"
"No."
"If I see myself as someone who is called to be part of the great blessing you are to receive in your life, can I be of a mind to hurt you?"
"No."
"And because we share so much of the same understanding, need I ever be afraid that you will be of a mind to hurt me?"
"No."
"And if fear is cast out, what is there instead, to at least the extent that imperfect people can know it?"
I had to think about this ... but indeed, my good and faithful echo was on his points.
"Love," I said, "for it is written: 'Perfect love casts out fear.'"
"This is another aspect," he said, "of walking, abiding, adorning, appearing, associating, and appropriating in the way that you are called ... in love, and gratitude.
"Corollary: what is the one thing completely missing from Schubert's Winterreise?"
"Gratitude," I said. "I mean, we understand the character is heartbroken, but he has no appreciation for anything, ever. 'Rast' is where it gets really obvious that there is far more wrong with him than losing that woman -- I mean he appreciates nothing."
"That tells us something about the nature of ingratitude," he said. "Because he cannot get what he wants, he refuses to appreciate anything and anyone else, so, step by step, his ingratitude embraces the entire universe, with its Maker, both of whom answer him with only one thing: winter. To get out of that, he would have had to accept not only the loss of his darling, but also the loss of the delusion of replacing God, uttered aloud in song 22, only for there to be Song 23, and three suns in the sky, though actually, only one!"
"Oh, yikes," I said. "That's the Trinity, showing him up!"
"Yes, but also consider this: it is a cold winter day in which it would take three suns to even get to the comfort level of this day in San Francisco! To you, lost in such a cold clime, that would be a divine miracle for which you would be ... ?"
"Deeply grateful," I said. "Plenty of light and enough warmth for me to be able to get to the next town ... ."
"Where you might put a few coins in the hurdy-gurdy man's empty pan on the way to safety, and be received warmly because your 'please and thank you' skills are highly honed," he said. "Different attitude, different journey!"
"Of course I couldn't be out there, even on a rescue mission -- San Franciscan me?" I said, and he laughed.
"Frau Mathews," he said, "you tickle me -- you still do not know who your character would be in Winterreise? You are the well-protected daughter, whose unseen Father will not allow an unfit person to remain in your life, but has called you to peace."
"Whoa ... ."
"So, yes, Frau Mathews, you got to enjoy the halcyon of winter, and spring, and summer, and autumn, and now winter again, while others are ungratefully railing against God and the universe for not letting them have what they want and fighting a fight they cannot win. The seasons, and likewise circumstances, roll over everyone. But where love calls and gratitude answers, the journey will be never be without joy and peace."
As if on cue, a whole herald of spring popped out into the sunlight ...
... and I just stared ... and then thought about what he had said about Winterreise ... yes, the daughter is asleep, and protected, for the only possible threat to her leaves her environs. Therefore, her winter is one in which she is given rest.
My companion, good and faithful Echo Watchman that he is, quoted in reverent, double-deep gravity what I had indeed heard said to me directly at the end of 2023, from Matthew 11:28: " 'Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'"
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