God said, “How is this?”
I said, “Dear Lord, the streets on earth are full of mire. If I should
walk straight on in them my outer robe might be bespotted, you see how
white it is! Therefore I pick my way.”
God said, “On what?”
I was silent, and I let my robe fall. I wrapped my mantle about my head.
I went out softly. I was afraid that the angels would see me.