Too tired for a title

Well, it's been a pretty crappy morning. The boys were up last night-- Kindred woke Elias because he was hysterical after peeing the bed-- and I spent the night (from 4am to 8am) on the couch while Kindred had my spot in bed. In the morning, I headed to a shore town in south Jersey because I'd been subpoenaed to testify on behalf of a friend to retain parental rights of his son, a nearly two hour journey for an 11am court appearance. Halfway there I get a call from Michael who said, "Turn around and come home. Court has been rescheduled."

Then there was yet another new neighbor debacle involving the gas company, the police and a locksmith. I won't go into it, and I hope our neighbor forgives us. It was an event that had unintentional consequences. And finally, I'm feeling weighed down by the news that an acquaintance of mine and fellow mommy-blogger is nearing the end of her life. I wasn't going to mention it because, although I've met her a few times, I'm not close with Andrea. But I have been following her story through her blog, and I've been overcome with the beauty and grief that envelopes her family. As Lara put it so well in her post, especially the last paragraph, the Collins-Smith family deserves to be honored.

Whew. So all that being said, I'm going to change gears a moment and recognize the fact that I've been tagged once again for a meme (oddly enough, by the same woman who pulled the last one out of me), but this one isn't really about me, so I decided to do it. Here's how it's done:

The rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.

So, like many mothers who might have to pick the nearest book, and then the next-to-nearest book, and so on in search of one that might have words instead of just pictures, have pages made of paper instead of cardboard, and might come somewhere near 100 pages (Green Eggs and Ham does not count, even though it must be close to 100 pages long), I found one:

The sound had come up that passage. So she went on with her dim light, almost feeling her way, her heart beating so loud that she fancied she could hear it. The far-off faint crying went on and led her.

Mad props (or a nice HT) to anyone who can guess what book this passage is from. Your hints: 1) I loved this book as a child, but once I saw the [Hallmark version of the] movie, I got tired of trying to navigate the dialect written in many parts of the dialogue; 2) A turning point in the plot happens when a bird leads a little girl to a key.

(Mom, you aren't allowed to guess.)

And if you're reading this, you're tagged. (Isn't this fun?)