The kingdom of heaven is like a tree that takes root in our homes, blossoming tales and prophecies on every branch.
The kingdom of heaven is like a woman who rises before dawn to clean her house, sweeping and scrubbing as she hums a song her mother taught her. As morning breaks, she sets aside her broom and rags. In silence she sits, watching light fill the eastern windows. Soon, she knows, the chairs around her table will be full.