The morning was mild, about 45°, and a soft fog drifted over the corn stubble as Robert’s pickup came to the end of our walk. Sister Mary Claire and I climbed in while Robert reached down to lift little Mini into the cab—she can never quite make the jump herself. The new heater filled the cab with warm air, and we rode the gravel road to St. Mary’s with the windows slowly clearing and the countryside still half-asleep.
At morning Mass, Father LeRoy was full of cheer. Afterward, he told Sister and me that he had started re-reading The Glories of Mary again. He said it feels new every time, like drawing from a fountain that never runs dry. He smiled and quoted St. Augustine, who wrote that even if all the members of men were turned into tongues, they still couldn’t praise her enough. “You see,” he said, “the more you praise Mary, the more there is to praise—because love, when it’s true, keeps growing.”
On the ride home, Robert talked about how he’d soon be moving the cattle closer to the barn for the winter. I looked out the window at the brown, quiet fields. Though they seemed still, they didn’t look empty—only waiting. Waiting for spring, when new seeds will be tucked into the soil again. It made me think of Our Lady, whose heart was always ready for whatever God wished to plant there.
Evening Prayer:
O Blessed Mother, let my heart, like the fields, be open and waiting—ready for the seeds of grace God chooses to sow.
Love, Kathy
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