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It is the end of the summer, and the Prayer Garden is getting jungle-like, purposely a little overgrown.  It is wonderful how well-planned this place is — there is always something beautiful to be seen here, no matter what the season.  

I come to the garden alone

While the dew is still on the roses

And the voice I hear, falling on my ear

The Son of God discloses

And He walks with me

And He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own

And the joy we share as we tarry there

None other has ever known.

“In the Garden” — lyrics by  C. Austin Miles (1868 – 1946)

Be blessed!