Wheeling Gull Isle sermon on the mount

Dinah is swept into the alabaster embrace of mother and her arms reach up to return it, twisting around her neck as if it may be the last time she is ever held. In mama's arms, Dinah is no longer aging; she is that same starry-eyed little girl, tucked against her breast, listening close to the hymns of oceansong.
And beside her is Simeon — oh, Simeon! And when she hears his voice, scratchy with the onset of time and change, she turns to bring one foreleg around him, too. We'll go together. Yes, yes, she would go with him gladly; but it was not the mainland that frightened her so.
What frightened her was that mama told her to look to God, that He knew all and that He was here, listening, watching, and she did not feel Him. He could not hear her cries. His warmth was only the sun.