Dear Diary,
It was 61 degrees this morning, cool enough that Sister Mary Claire pulled her shawl a little closer on our walk to St. Mary’s. Mini trotted ahead with her proud little strut, like the show dog she thinks she is. Father LeRoy read the Gospel about Nathanael, and I thought it was strange that Jesus already knew him before they ever met.
On the walk home, I asked Sister how that could be. She said Jesus knows each of us that way, even before we are called. “He sees the good in us, just as He saw Nathanael under the fig tree,” she explained. I asked if that meant He saw me under the mulberry tree where I like to sit with Mini. Sister laughed and said yes, even there. She said Jesus loves when we are honest with Him, like Nathanael who had no duplicity.
The sun felt warm on our backs, and the gravel crunched underfoot. Sister told me that following Jesus means trusting that He will show us “greater things” in our lives, even little ones like keeping the cave snug for winter or helping Father LeRoy with church tasks. I liked that. It makes me feel like our small chores are part of something bigger.
When we reached our drive way, Mini gave one last shake of her ears and darted ahead, and I whispered to myself, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God.” It felt like the best way to finish the morning.
Evening Prayer:
Dear Jesus, thank You for seeing me and loving me as I am. Help me to be truthful in all things and to follow You with a heart that trusts. Show me the greater things You have planned. Amen.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary,
Sister Mary Claire and I went to Mass last night, so today was spent at home, and we listened to Bishop Barron’s homily on the little Swiss radio. He reminded us of Pope Benedict’s words—that the Church does three things: it worships God, it spreads His word, and it serves the poor. Then he said the Gospel about the rich man and Lazarus is meant to bother us. Are you indifferent to the sufferings of the poor? What are you doing, concretely, to help them?
Sister said gently that helping doesn’t always mean something big. Sometimes it’s just sharing what you have, or stopping to listen when someone is lonely. She said even a cup of warm soup or a kind word can be love enough to keep someone from feeling forgotten.
The rest of the day we cleaned the cave. Clifford’s heavy wooden door made all the difference—it kept the autumn breeze and leaves outside, so we could sweep and dust without everything blowing back in. Sister polished the prayer corner until the little grotto sparkled, and I tidied the shelves. Mini darted in and out with her airplane ears, carrying sticks as if they were treasures, proud to be part of the work.
Sister said even cleaning the cave can be a prayer if we do it with thankful hearts. I thought of Lazarus—how cold the ground must have been for him—and I whispered to God that if anyone ever came by our cave in need, we would welcome them in.
Evening Prayer
Dear Lord,
Keep me from being blind to others who are hurting.
Teach me to share what I have, however small,
and to love with both my hands and my heart.
Bless Clifford’s door that keeps us warm,
and bless Mini, who keeps us smiling.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary
This morning at Holy Mass Father LeRoy read from the Gospel of Luke where Jesus told His disciples that the Son of Man would be handed over to men. They didn’t understand, and Sister Mary Claire explained on our walk home that sometimes God hides the meaning of things until we are ready to understand. She said the disciples’ hearts were not ready yet, but Jesus wanted them to remember His words so that when the time came, they would know it was all part of God’s plan.
As we walked, Mini trotted ahead, sniffing every dried leaf in the ditch, her little bottom wiggling as happy as ever. The air was chilly, and I could feel that fall is giving way to cold days. Sister said the seasons remind us of God’s timing too—there is a right season for everything, even for understanding.
When we reached home, Clifford, the handyman Sister found, was already busy at the cave. He is a tall man with broad shoulders and rough hands, the kind of hands that have fixed many things. His overalls were worn but neat, and he had a way of working steady without a lot of talk. Clifford built a solid wood door for the entrance, with strong hinges and a latch, so the wind won’t whistle in this winter.
He stood back and gave a nod when the door shut tight and sure. “That’ll hold up just fine for you girls,” he said with a quiet smile. Sister sighed and told me later, “No one else could have done it.” I thought that was true. The cave already feels snugger, as if John Hathaway himself would be glad for such good work.
I felt a peace, knowing the cave will be ready for winter nights, with the fire’s glow and the prayers we will offer there.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus, thank You for Your words, even when I don’t understand them right away. Help me to trust like the disciples, and wait for the time when You will make things clear. Bless Sister Mary Claire, Clifford for his sturdy door, and little Mini who keeps me smiling. Keep us warm and safe in Your love.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary,
This morning’s Gospel reading was about when Jesus asked His disciples, “Who do the crowds say that I am?” They gave different answers—John the Baptist, Elijah, or another prophet. Then He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Sister Mary Claire told me this is the most important question of all, because each of us must answer it for ourselves. Peter said, “You are the Christ of God.”
Jesus then told them He would suffer, be rejected, and killed, but rise on the third day. Sister explained that even though the cross was heavy, it was His way of showing perfect love for us, and that Easter morning is always promised after Good Friday. I tried to keep that in my heart as we walked home together.
This afternoon I finished typing up the little booklet called Farm Blessings. It was a very old mimeographed copy from the convent at Hawarden, Iowa, which closed long ago. Now it is neat and ready for the shelf, and I have made it number 8 on my library list. I hope the neighbors will like borrowing it from the Little Lending Library at the end of the driveway.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
I believe You are the Christ of God.
Help me to follow You with a brave heart, even when the way is hard.
Bless our home, our farm, and everyone who passes by the library box.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary,
This morning at Holy Mass, Father LeRoy read from the Gospel of Luke (9:51-56). It told how Jesus set His face toward Jerusalem, and when some people in a Samaritan village would not welcome Him, James and John asked if they should call down fire from heaven. But Jesus turned and rebuked them, reminding them that His way is mercy, not punishment.
On our walk home, Sister Mary Claire explained that sometimes it is easy to want to strike back when someone doesn’t like us or refuses to listen. But Jesus shows us a better way—He keeps moving forward with patience and love, leaving the anger behind. I asked if that meant we should just let people be unkind to us, and Sister said no, but we should never let unkindness make our own hearts bitter.
The sun was warm on the road, and the cornstalks rattled in the little breeze. Mini trotted ahead, her ears perked and her little bottom wiggling. She dashed into the ditch after a grasshopper, and Sister laughed, saying Mini was showing us how not to get distracted from the path. I liked that thought—that staying close to Jesus is like keeping to the path, even when noisy things along the way try to pull us aside.
When we reached home, I felt glad that Jesus was so gentle with His disciples, because I often need to be reminded not to be quick to anger too.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
Thank You for teaching me the way of mercy.
Help me to be patient when others are unkind
and to keep walking with You on the right path.
Bless Sister Mary Claire and little Mini, and keep our home in Your peace tonight.
Love,
Kathy
This morning after Holy Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I walked home from Church. The cornfields stood tall and waiting, and the only sound for a long while was our footsteps on the gravel. Then the silence was broken by the harsh chop of a farmer cutting corn silage. Mini jumped in surprise and even howled at the clattering machine, her little Corgi voice trying to compete with the noise. We both laughed, and Mini quickly looked humbled when the sound swallowed her up.
Father LeRoy’s homily had been on the Gospel of St. Luke, where Jesus sent out His apostles with nothing but faith and His blessing. Sister Mary Claire explained as we walked that Jesus wanted them to trust God completely, not in money or belongings, but in His care. “They were to bring the peace of Christ to each house,” she said, “and if they were not welcomed, they were to let it go and move on.” I thought of how brave that must have been, to step into strange towns with nothing but your voice and the Gospel.
Sister told me that we too are called to be little apostles—maybe not in far-off villages, but right here in our own country parish. She said when we carry kindness, forgiveness, and God’s Word, it’s the same mission the Twelve were given. I held that close in my heart all the rest of the way home.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus,
Help me to be brave like the apostles.
Teach me to trust You more than anything I own,
and to bring Your peace to everyone I meet.
Bless Sister Mary Claire, Father LeRoy,
and the farmers working in the fields.
And please keep Mini safe from all the loud noises.
Love,
Kathy
Dear Diary
This morning after Holy Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I walked home down the gravel road with the sun warm on our shoulders. The fields all around us are filled with ripening corn, and Sister said the farmers are anxious for the harvest. You can almost feel the waiting in the air.
I asked Sister about the Gospel, because it puzzled me when Jesus said His mother and His brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it. It almost sounded like He wasn’t thinking of His own Mother. Sister smiled and said, “Kathy, Our Blessed Mother is the first of all those who heard God’s word and kept it. She said ‘yes’ with her whole heart. Jesus isn’t putting her aside — He’s making the family bigger. He is telling us that everyone who listens and obeys God’s word becomes His family too.”
That made me glad, to think that by trying to listen to God and do His will, even a farm girl like me could be counted among His brothers and sisters. Sister said the Word of God ripens in our hearts like the corn in the fields, if we let His love shine on it and tend it with prayer.
Mini gave us plenty of laughter along the way, darting back and forth across the road, then leaping at grasshoppers with her ears out like wings. She rolled in the dust until her coat was all powdered, then popped up again looking so proud of herself that we couldn’t help but laugh.
Evening Prayer
Dear Jesus, help me to always hear Your word with an open heart, and to act on it with love. Let me belong to Your family forever. Amen.
Love,
Kathy
