The Sycamore Tree Morning

Dear Diary,

This morning the snow was falling thick again, even though it was 39 degrees and too warm for any of it to stick. It came down in big soft flakes that melted the instant they landed, like the sky was practicing for a real storm. Robert picked us up at the end of the driveway, and the pickup was already warm and glowing inside. Sister Mary Claire climbed in first, then me. The wipers worked hard the whole way to church as the snow came faster, swirling across the windshield.

Inside St. Mary’s, everyone shook snow from their coats, and the wood stove made the whole church feel snug. Today’s Gospel was the story of Zacchaeus from Luke 19:1–10. I always love this one—Zacchaeus climbing the sycamore tree just to catch a glimpse of Jesus, not caring one bit what people thought. Father LeRoy said, “Jesus always sees the heart that is searching for Him,” and that made the whole story glow in my mind. Jesus didn’t wait for Zacchaeus to be perfect—He loved him first, and that is what changed him.

After Communion, Father ended Mass quickly because the weather had turned troublesome. The temperature was dropping fast, and the wind was beginning to push the snow into tiny drifts along the steps. Everyone hurried out, pulling scarves tight and heading straight for their cars.

The drive home felt like riding through a swirling white tunnel. Robert let us off at the mailbox, and the wind carried snow right across the road in little waves. We hurried up the walk, holding our coats close.

The afternoon was quiet. Sister dried our coats by the stove, and I worked on my scrapbook for a while. The wind kept whisking around the house, and every so often I’d peek outside to see the drifts getting just a bit deeper.

Evening Prayer

Sister and I knelt at our beds beneath the picture of the Sacred Heart. She prayed that we would be like Zacchaeus—always looking for Jesus, even if we have to climb a “tree” of our own. I prayed that when Jesus calls my name, I can hurry toward Him with the same joy Zacchaeus did.


The wind is still dancing the snow around the yard.

Love, Kathy.