Ripening Corn

Dear Diary,

This morning’s Holy Mass was quiet and peaceful. Father LeRoy read the Gospel about people who act like children in the marketplace—saying they played the flute and no one danced, and sang a dirge but no one wept. I didn’t quite understand what Jesus meant, but Mini sat so still beside us during the reading, like she was trying to understand too.

On the walk home, I asked Sister Mary Claire about it. She tucked my braid behind my shoulder and said Jesus was showing how some people just refuse to be pleased. They don’t listen to God’s messengers—no matter how they come. If someone is too serious, they say he’s strange. If someone is joyful, they say he’s too wild. But really, they’re just closing their hearts.

Sister said that wisdom isn’t loud—it shows itself in the lives of those who follow what is true and good. That’s what Jesus meant when He said, “Wisdom is vindicated by all her children.” We don’t have to explain everything if we’re living it.

We walked a little slower than usual, just listening to the breeze in ripening cornfield and watching Mini’s ears fly out like airplane wings as she listened too. Sister Mary Claire was praying her Rosary softly, and I didn’t want the walk to end.

Evening Prayer:

Dear Jesus,

Please help me to listen to Your voice, whether it comes in joy or sorrow. Teach me to follow You even when others don’t understand. I want to be one of wisdom’s children. Thank You for this day, for Holy Mass, for Sister Mary Claire, and for Mini, who always walks with me.

 
Love,

Kathy