This morning it was 29° and the snow was falling in that soft, steady way that makes everything look hushed, like the whole farm is holding its breath. Sister Mary Claire and I could hear the wind brushing the side of the house, and the little flakes tapping the window like tiny fingers.
We were just getting ready when Robert came early — and not just to pick us up for Church. He pulled in with a whole load of split firewood, stacked so neat and honest-looking in the back of his pickup that it made my heart feel full before the day even started. Sister Mary Claire went right out with me, and when she saw it, she put her hand to her coat like she was almost laughing and almost going to cry at the same time.
There is no outdoing his generosity. Truly. He just does things like that as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
We thanked him and he shrugged the way he always does, like it’s nothing, even though it’s something big. The snow had already dusted the edges of the wood, and I thought of how warm it would make our stove later, and how the Lord must smile at kindness like that.
Then we all climbed into the pickup — Sister, Robert, Mini, and me — and off we went to Church while the snow kept falling and the road turned paler and paler ahead of us.
At Mass, Father LeRoy spoke about Mary and Joseph going to Bethlehem, and how the Lord chose to come in poverty and lowliness, not in comfort. He said their journey teaches us that we are travelers too — not meant to cling so tightly to everything here, but to keep our hearts free for God.
And then he talked about the part that always makes me feel a lump in my throat — how there was no room for them in the inn. Father said it still happens when Jesus comes close to our hearts and we are too busy, or too full of ourselves, or too scattered with a divided heart. He said Advent is the time to make room — not just a corner, but the best place, and really, our whole heart.
On the ride home I watched the snow blur past the window and I kept thinking: Bethlehem was cold too. And still Mary was patient. Still Joseph kept going. Still Jesus came.
Back home, the firewood Robert brought felt like part of the meditation, almost like a lesson in action. A warm stove, a sheltered house, a gift given quietly — it made me want to be more like that, and not make excuses, and not be stingy with love.
Tonight the snow is still coming down, and Mini is curled up like a little loaf of bread, so cozy you’d think she’s never known a cold day in her life.
My Resolution
Today I will make room for Jesus by practicing humility, meekness, and patience, and by doing one kind thing without wanting credit for it.
Evening Prayer
I make the Sign of the Cross and quiet my heart.
Jesus, please come into my heart and stay.
Help me not to be crowded inside with fussing and pride.
Teach me to be gentle and patient like Mary,
and faithful and steady like St. Joseph.
Thank You for Robert’s kindness today, and for the warmth You give us in so many ways.
Sweet Heart of Jesus, make my heart a home for You.
Sweet Heart of Mary, keep me close to Jesus.
Amen.
Love, Kathy.
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