At some point during the Coop hardcover tour in 2009, I picked up the Library of America’s Flannery O’Connor: Collected Works and have been working my way through it off and on since (I know I read it at least once during my stop in Portland, Oregon, based on a restaurant receipt stuck between the pages).
One section of the book contains O’Connor’s correspondence, including the following lines from consecutive letters, both written on September 30, 1955:
My greatest exertion and pleasure these last years has been throwing the garbage to the chickens…
I can still throw garbage to the chickens, so life is still beautiful…
I believe I understand.