Dearest Anne...

My faithful readers know how much I love you. My friends know how I adore you. My mother tried to plan a pilgrimage to Prince Edward Island to pay homage to you, but we couldn't coordinate schedules.

But it has been so long since I have last gazed at your red pigtails, your freckles, your dress of grey wincey. I have not turned your pages in years...to be frank, I can't remember the last time I paid a visit to Avonlea.

I have been in the middle of quite a few heavy duty books lately, as evidenced by my sidebar. At this time though, all that material is getting too heavy for me. Whenever that happens, that is when I need to visit an old friend--and you, my dear, are that old friend.

But will you still hold appeal for me as an adult, as opposed to a fledgling adolescent? Will your tales still bring me magic even though I'm no longer as youthful as you? Will Avonlea be as magical and romantic as I once remembered?

I shall find out soon, for tonight, I am opening your pages once again. I shall be with you as you and Matthew journey home on the White Way of Delight, past the Lake of Shining Waters. I shall be with you the first time you cross the threshold at Green Gables. And I shall be cheering you on as you stand up to Gilbert when he calls you "Carrots."

Dearest Anne, I have missed you so. It will be so good to spend time with you again. Last month was tough for me, and while things are much better now, I still need a reminder that "God's in His heaven, all's right with the world."