Mae Demaray's life in an old clapboard house on a quiet Minneapolis street had been rich with the hues of security and love, beauty and faith. It carried the scent of flowers, the sound of quiet at daybreak, the laughter of children, the touch of God all giving her the satisfying sense of living life to its fullness. But that was before the March day when Mae's world was shaken at its very center.
The ordinary days leading up to that unforgettable moment were but a quiet prelude to the mad song that followed. Unforeseen and shattering events invaded her well-ordered life and silenced her joy. Unable to make sense of her torn-apart world, Mae retreated from life as she had once known it.
How quickly life had changed. How quickly the colorful became colorless, dressed in shades of black and white, no longer reflecting the light. Yet surely a new day would soon break, with light rising gently, giving hope for restoration
Surely there must be- A Place Called Morning.