Sunday, July 27, 1956
Dear Diary
This morning began with the sound of tires crunching gravel at the Big Rock. Robert had come in his pickup to take us to Mass. Mini heard it before we did and raced ahead, her whole body wiggling with excitement. By the time we caught up, she was already in full airplane mode—her ears flattened and sticking straight out like little wings, as if she were ready for takeoff. Sister Mary Claire says that’s when Mini’s not just excited, but also trying to be very good, even though she’s not quite sure what’s coming next.
We all climbed into the cab—Robert tipped his hat as Sister slid in, and I followed with my freshly braided pigtails. Mini curled up between us, still in airplane mode, but she settled once Sister whispered, “You’re coming to church, little one.”
The breeze through the open windows felt like a blessing all its own, and I quietly said this prayer from Florine’s old handwritten prayer book:
🌿 Dear God, my loving God,
I place my trust in You.
From the first light of morning,
You are my Lord and my strength.
Please guide my thoughts,
my words, and all I do today.
Keep me from anything wrong,
and stay close to me, always. 🌿
This morning began with the sound of tires crunching gravel at the Big Rock. Robert had come in his pickup to take us to Mass. Mini heard it before we did and raced ahead, her whole body wiggling with excitement. By the time we caught up, she was already in full airplane mode—her ears flattened and sticking straight out like little wings, as if she were ready for takeoff. Sister Mary Claire says that’s when Mini’s not just excited, but also trying to be very good, even though she’s not quite sure what’s coming next.
We all climbed into the cab—Robert tipped his hat as Sister slid in, and I followed with my freshly braided pigtails. Mini curled up between us, still in airplane mode, but she settled once Sister whispered, “You’re coming to church, little one.”
The breeze through the open windows felt like a blessing all its own, and I quietly said this prayer from Florine’s old handwritten prayer book:
🌿 Dear God, my loving God,
I place my trust in You.
From the first light of morning,
You are my Lord and my strength.
Please guide my thoughts,
my words, and all I do today.
Keep me from anything wrong,
and stay close to me, always. 🌿
Sister says the prayer book was written by hand in 1849 by someone who must have loved little Florine very much and wanted her to grow up close to God. The pages are soft now, but the words still seem to whisper with love and faith, like a quiet voice meant just for morning hearts.
Mass at St. Mary’s was beautiful. The Gospel reading from St. Luke was all about prayer—how Jesus taught the disciples the Our Father, and how He told them to be like a persistent friend knocking at midnight. Father LeRoy explained that God wants us to knock. He said that even the best fathers on earth know how to give good gifts to their children—but God, our Heavenly Father, gives the Holy Spirit to those who ask. Not just fish and eggs and bread—but Himself.
He looked right at us and said, “You don’t need to wonder if He hears you. Just knock. Just ask.”
The ride home was peaceful. Sister closed her eyes and rested against the door. Robert whistled a little, and Mini climbed into my lap, off duty and eyes closed.
I think tonight I’ll say the Our Father slowly, one line at a time, like I’m knocking at the door and waiting patiently for it to open.
Sweet Jesus, may I never be afraid to knock.
Sweet Mary, may I trust in your help.
Holy Joseph, may I always know your quiet strength.
Love,
Kathy
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