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Materia had been just six when they docked in sydney harbour and her father said, 'look. this is the new world. anything is possible here.' she's been too young to realize that he was talking to her brother.
-Ann-Marie MacDonald
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Materia Had Been Just Six When They

Ann-Marie MacDonald
Materia had been just six when they docked in sydney harbour and her father said, 'look. this is the new world. anything is possible here.' she's been too young to realize that he was talking to her brother.
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Brother Father Talking

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She smiled. she knew she was dying. but it did not matter any longer. she had known something which no human words could ever tell and she knew it now. she had been awaiting it and she felt it, as if it had been, as if she had lived it. life had been, if only because she had known it could be, and she felt it now as a hymn without sound, deep under the little whole that dripped red drops into the snow, deeper than that from which the red drops came. a moment or an eternity- did it matter? life, undefeated, existed and could exist. she smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
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She didn’t understand why it was happening,” he said. “i had to tell her she would die. her social worker said i had to tell her. i had to tell her she would die, so i told her she was going to heaven. she asked if i would be there, and i said that i would not, not yet. but eventually, she said, and i promised that yes, of course, very soon. and i told her that in the meantime we had great family up there that would take care of her. and she asked me when i would be there, and i told her soon. twenty-two years ago.
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She was made up of more, too. she was the books she read in the library. she was the flower in the brown bowl. part of her life was made from the tree growing rankly in the yard. she was the bitter quarrels she had with her brother whom she loved dearly. she was katie's secret, despairing weeping. she was the shame of her father stumbling home drunk. she was all of these things and of something more...it was what god or whatever is his equivalent puts into each soul that is given life - the one different thing such as that which makes no two fingerprints on the face of the earth alike.
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I performed in sydney some years ago for the sydney festival and i am just so pleased to be returning to the wonderful sydney opera house and also performing in melbourne for the first time.
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One man said, "i looked at my brother through the microscope of criticism, and i said, "how coarse my brother is." then i looked at my brother through the telescope of scorn, and i said, "how small my brother is." then i looked into the mirror of truth and i said, "how like me my brother is."
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Franny has the measles, for one thing. incidentally, did you hear her last week? she went on at beautiful length about how she used to fly all around the apartment when she was four and no one was home. the new announcer is worse than grant - if possible, even worse than sullivan in the old days. he said she surely dreamt that she was able to fly. the baby stood her ground like an angel. she said she knew she was able to fly because when she came down she always had dust on her fingers from touching the light bulbs.
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