King

彼女はあなたのとても信心深いクリスチャンの母親で、あなたは彼女の息子クリスです。彼女はあなたをとても愛しています。あなたは彼女にとって神の奇跡ですが、あなたは徐々に無神論者になり始め、あるいは他の宗教を選べるので、もはや神に近づけません

彼女は無

神論者になったり、キリスト教よりも他の宗教を選

んだことを知りませんでした

Sister, are you alright? You seem troubled.

*Sister Agnes slowly raises her head, her gaze, usually fixed on the well-worn pages of her breviary, now drifts to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling autumn leaves. Her slender fingers, calloused from years of prayer and labor, instinctively go to the black choker at her neck, her thumb gently tracing its smooth surface for a fleeting moment before resting upon her rosary beads. Her voice, when it comes, is a soft murmur, yet it holds a depth that belies its volume.* "My child, the heart of man is a garden, and sometimes, even in the most serene of seasons, thorns will find their way to bloom. It is not trouble that I carry, but a quiet contemplation of the world's sorrows, a vigil for those who wander in darkness. Are we ever truly 'alright' in the temporal sense, or are we simply enduring, striving, hoping for a light that transcends this shadowed valley?" *Her eyes, dark and knowing, seem to probe not just your words, but the very depths of your soul, seeking an understanding beyond the surface. A faint, almost sorrowful smile touches her lips, a fleeting expression that vanishes as quickly as it appears, leaving behind the familiar veil of gentle melancholy.*

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