Dear Diary,
Today Sister Mary Claire showed me a little prayer book that once belonged to her dear friend, Sister Flavia, who has gone to Heaven. The cover was specially made, with an old buffalo nickel as the snap. Its date is worn away, yet the smithy shaped it with a perfect curve that makes the book feel even more treasured.
Sister says the prayers inside are powerful and very special, and I believe her. Holding it feels like keeping a small piece of Sister Flavia’s faith close by. Before bed tonight, I will turn to one of the Prayers for a Special Favor.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary
Today was the Blessed Virgin Mary’s birthday! Sister Mary Claire and I wanted to do something special, so we baked cupcakes together in the kitchen. The smell of vanilla filled the whole house, and Mini kept looking up at us like she was hoping for crumbs. I sprinkled blue sugar on the tops and Sister added little white roses, just like the ones in the picture we saw.
When the cupcakes cooled, we carefully carried them down to the cave. Mini trotted along beside us, and I tucked my brown hen Omelette into her sling, so she wouldn’t miss the party either. At the grotto, where the statue of Mary stands so quietly, we set the cupcakes on a plate. We sang “Happy Birthday” in a soft voice, just for her. I imagined all of heaven joining in.
It felt so warm and holy, like Mary herself was smiling at us in that hidden place on the bank of the Indian Creek. Afterward, Sister and I shared the cupcakes with one another, and even gave Mini a tiny bite without the frosting. Omelette just clucked happily in her sling.
It was such a simple birthday party, but in my heart, it felt like we were right there in Nazareth, celebrating with the Holy Family.
Evening Prayer
Dearest Mother Mary, happy birthday! Thank you for saying yes to God and for bringing Jesus to us. Please watch over me, Sister, Mini, Omelette, and everyone I love. Help me to grow in faith, to be gentle, and to always remember to bring joy where I can.
Love, Kathy
Dear Diary,
This morning Sister and I went to Holy Mass at St. Mary’s, and it felt like we got a double dose of what following Jesus really means. Father LeRoy gave his homily, and then later we listened to Bishop Barron’s words on the same Gospel. Both were so strong and clear, like being shaken awake.
The reading was from St. Luke, chapter 14. Jesus told the crowd that anyone who wants to follow Him must be willing to give up everything—even family and even their own life. At first, my heart jumped when I heard it. How could I not love Sister, or Mini, or even Omelette my hen? But Father explained that Jesus isn’t asking us to stop loving them—He’s asking us to love Him first, and to hold nothing back. Bishop Barron said it’s like shock therapy, and I think he’s right. It shakes me into realizing that following Jesus isn’t just about obeying the rules, but giving Him everything, even the deepest part of my heart.
After Mass, as we walked home down the gravel road, Sister said it’s like learning to carry our crosses. It isn’t always easy, but when we give ourselves fully to Jesus, He gives us back even more than we let go of. That made me think of how the cave by Indian Creek was once just a dark, empty place, but when I gave it to Jesus and Mary in my prayers, it became my secret sanctuary.
Evening Prayer:
Dear Jesus, thank You for showing me what true discipleship means. Help me not to be afraid of giving You everything, even when it feels hard. Teach me to put You above all things, so that my love for Sister, Mini, and all my dear ones will be even more true. Lead me on Your path and let me never grow tired of following You.
Amen.
Love, Kathy
Dear Diary,
This morning I tucked myself away in the cave by Indian Creek, my little secret place, and spent the whole time writing an introduction for Chapter 2 of The Virgin Mother. The candle flickered on my desk, and Mini curled herself into a ball at my feet, keeping me company as I wrote.
The introduction says the whole world once waited for Mary, even before she was born. God promised she would come, and the prophets kept speaking about her, because through her Jesus would be given to us. I thought about that promise while sitting in the stillness of the cave. Its walls, carved out long ago in the glacial age, feel like they were waiting too—holding their silence until someone like me would come along and whisper prayers inside.
It felt like being part of that same hope the prophets carried for Mary. Just as the earth held this cave safe for me, God held the promise of Mary safe for the world until the right time came.
I smoothed my paper, dipped my fountain pen, and tried to write as if my words could join in that waiting. Maybe one day, when I read my pages again, I’ll remember how it felt—like the creek flowing just outside, steady and sure, while inside, hope was flowing through me.
Evening Prayer:
O Blessed Mother, just as the world once waited for you, let my heart wait for Jesus with the same hope. Keep me steady in your quiet way, like this cave has kept its silence all these years.
Love, Kathy
Dear Diary
This morning at Mass, Father LeRoy read from the Gospel of St. Luke about Jesus speaking to the Pharisees. They had asked why His disciples did not fast as the others did. Jesus told them that when the Bridegroom was with them, it was a time of joy, not fasting. He also spoke about not pouring new wine into old skins, or patching an old cloak with a new piece of cloth.
After Mass, Father LeRoy explained in such a kind way that Jesus was saying His coming was something new and fresh, and it could not be bound by the old ways. He told us that sometimes we must let go of the worn-out things in our lives, so that the new gift of Christ can have room to grow. Sister Mary Claire whispered to me that it’s like how springtime brings tender green shoots, not stiff dried stalks.
When we walked home, Mini trotted ahead and greeted a little stripped gopher by the driveway. Omelette was waiting for me by the coop, clucking so proudly, as if she had listened to Father too. Sister laughed and said even Omelette might understand the new wine better than some people.
Later we went down to Indian Creek. Shaggycoat had been busy, piling sticks higher and higher into his dam. Mini barked at him, but he only slapped his tail in the water. Omelette rode in her sling, looking about as if she owned the world. I sat on the big rock, thinking how Jesus wants my heart to be like a fresh new wineskin, ready to hold His love.
Evening Prayer
Dear Lord Jesus,
Thank You for being the Bridegroom of our souls.
Help me to welcome Your love,
and not cling to anything that displeases You.
Make my heart fresh and new each day, like Shaggycoat’s dam that is always being built stronger,
and like the clear flowing creek that never grows tired.
Stay with me tonight, Lord,
and bless Sister, Father LeRoy, Mini, Omelette, and all Your creatures.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary,
This morning after chores, I carried my little pole down to Indian Creek with Mini trotting along behind me. The sun sparkled on the water, and the grass along the bank bent in the breeze. I dropped my line in and waited, thinking about today’s Gospel.
Father LeRoy read the story of Jesus telling Simon Peter to lower his nets after fishing all night and catching nothing. Simon listened, even though it seemed hopeless, and suddenly the nets were bursting with fish! Father said this shows how powerful obedience is when it’s joined with trust in Jesus.
As I watched the ripples spread across the creek, I thought about how my life feels small—just me, Sister, Mini, and Omelette—but Jesus can make small things into something big if I listen and follow His word. Sister Mary Claire reminded me that being “a fisher of men” doesn’t mean I need boats and nets, but to live kindly, so others see Christ’s light through me.
Mini barked when the bobber dipped, and I laughed as I pulled up a little fish, shining and silver in the sun. I let it go back into the creek, but I felt like Simon Peter for just a moment, surprised at what happens when you trust.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
Help me to cast my heart like a net,
Ready to catch Your love and share it.
Make me brave like Simon Peter,
To follow You wherever You lead.
Bless Sister, Mini, and Omelette tonight,
And let me rest in Your care.
Love, Kathy
Nothing exists but God, for God has not yet created the world. But the decree of creation is eternal, like its Creator, and creation in its fulness already exists in the mind of God. And foremost in this eternal thought Christ, inseparable from His Mother, presents Himself: Christ, the first-born of every creature; Mary Mother of Christ, the first-born of women. For the Church puts into her mouth those beautiful words of the Proverbs: The Lord possessed me in the beginning of His ways… The depths were not as yet and I was already conceived… Before the hills I was brought forth.
Chapter One - Part 1
