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Mrs. Medina looked at Lennie and realized now that she did truly love her, as you always love those few in your life who have rearranged your spirit, and little pricks of tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. She had expected this meeting with Lennie to show her what to do, to present her with something dramatic, a sign, a jolt that would shove her into action, indicate which way to go. But it wouldn't happen like that, she saw now. What would happen would be more like a slow undoing, thread by thread, of the texture and weave of her life, much like a poppy with its roots deeply embedded in a stone wall disengages itself, root by delicate root, to begin a new life in the soil.
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