This morning was so chilly that even the Homestead Cottonwoods looked like they were shivering. Their branches were dressed all in frosty white, like someone had dusted them with sugar. If it hadn’t been quite so cold, I would’ve sat there under them with Mini and my wool blanket and started reading right away. But my nose was already turning pink, so Mini and I hurried down the worn path toward the cave.
Inside, it was quiet the way only the cave can be. Not lonely-quiet, but the kind that makes you feel like someone is listening. I spread out my wool blanket on the smooth stone and tucked my legs under it, and Mini curled herself into a little red-and-white ball right at my hip. Then I opened Sister Mary Claire’s Simplified Glories of Mary.
Oh Diary… I can hardly put it down.
The very first chapter made my heart feel warm, even though the cave was chilly. It talked about how Our Lady never turns away anyone who truly wants to begin again—how she’s a mother even to sinners, as long as they wish to change. The saints said she runs faster to help us than any earthly mother could. And it said something I keep thinking about over and over: that if we want to be called Mary’s children, we have to try—really try—to live the way she did, being humble, pure, gentle, and loving.
When I read the prayer at the end of the chapter, I whispered it softly because it felt like a secret between me and Our Lady:
“Holy Mother, help me rise from any wrong I’ve done, and hold me close as your child. Teach me to follow your example in humility and love, so that my whole day may belong to God.”
I don’t know why, but that little prayer made me feel braver and smaller at the same time. Like a tiny girl trying to walk in her mother’s footsteps—steps that feel too big, but still worth trying.
Mini lifted her head once, as if she felt something peaceful in the air too. Her ears went sideways like little airplane wings, so I think she knew it was prayer time.
When the cold started sneaking in again, I wrapped the blanket tight around me and we walked home past the frosty cottonwoods. They were still shimmering in the gray morning light, and I wished I could’ve shown Our Lady how pretty they looked.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus and sweet Mother Mary,
Thank You for the quiet of the cave today and for the words that made my heart feel warm.
Please help me rise from anything wrong and stay close to You both.
Bless Sister Mary Claire, Robert, and little Mini.
Keep our home safe through the night.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
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