December 31, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I went to Mass a half hour early. She brought along her meditation book to help us reflect on the year past and prepare for the new one. It felt like the perfect way to end the year, surrounded by others who also came early to start and end the day in prayer.

Before Mass began, Sister Mary Claire had me read the meditation with her. She explained that we should take time to thank God for all the blessings of the past year, even the trials and challenges. Those, she said, are the crosses that help make us stronger and bring us closer to Him. She also encouraged me to look at the ways I might have fallen short, not to feel sad, but so I can work harder in the coming year.

On the way home, she spoke about how we don’t know how many days God has given us, so we must live each one as if it were our last—always striving for holiness. She said the most important thing we can do is to love Jesus and work for Him with all our hearts. That sounded so beautiful to me, and I prayed silently that I could do that better this coming year.

In the afternoon, I went down to John Hathaway's Cave to make sure everything was secure for the winter. I built a little fire in the fireplace to warm the space, and then I spent some time at the grotto, praying and thanking Our Lady for her protection. As I knelt there, who should come by but my good friend, Shaggycoat! He stayed close by, as if to say, “Everything is just as it should be.”

This evening, back at the house, Sister Mary Claire and I had a nice fire going in the hearth. We said our evening prayers together, and Mini curled up near the fire. I couldn’t help but feel so grateful for her and Sister Mary Claire, for our little home, and for the gift of faith.

As I write this, the year 1955 is nearly over. I feel like it ended in the best way possible—with peace, prayer, and love. I pray 1956 will bring us closer to Jesus and that we’ll keep striving every day to grow in His grace.

Good night, dear Diary, and goodbye, 1955.

With love,

Kathy

The Shepherds Journey and Sweet Lessons

December 30th, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I went to church early, just as the sky was lighting with dawn. We brought along our Daily Meditations and read about the Shepherds at the Crib before Mass. The story filled my heart.

As we walked home afterward, Sister talked to me about how the shepherds, poor and humble as they were, left everything behind to see the Christ Child. She said their faith and eagerness were gifts of grace and something we should pray for every day. I thought about that long walk the shepherds took, probably through the dark and cold. They didn’t hesitate—they only cared about finding the Savior. Sister explained that we, too, should be ready to follow God’s inspirations, even if it’s inconvenient or costs us something. I told her I’d try to remember this every time I’m tempted to complain about chores.

When we got home, Mini greeted us at the door with her little squeak ball, so excited to see us. Monday mornings are always busy because we take eggs to the Breakfast Club. Sister carried the case of eggs, and I held onto my brown hen’s egg for my breakfast. The eggs we took were so big and beautiful—I couldn’t help but feel proud knowing how much the customers enjoy them.

The rest of the day was filled with sweetness—literally! Sister decided it was high time I learned to make cinnamon rolls. We worked side by side in the kitchen, and she showed me each step. By the time we were done, the house smelled heavenly, and the rolls looked perfect, with golden tops and gooey centers. Here’s the recipe she taught me:

Sister Mary Claire’s Cinnamon Rolls

Ingredients:

• 1 cup warm milk (not hot)

• 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast

• 1/3 cup granulated sugar

• 1/3 cup melted butter

• 1 teaspoon salt

• 2 large eggs

• 4 cups all-purpose flour

• 1/3 cup softened butter (for filling)

• 1 cup packed brown sugar

• 2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

Instructions:

1. Activate Yeast: Stir yeast into warm milk and let it sit until foamy (about 5 minutes).

2. Mix Dough: In a large bowl, combine sugar, melted butter, salt, eggs, and the milk mixture. Gradually add flour until the dough forms.

3. Knead Dough: Knead on a floured surface until smooth (about 5 minutes). Place in a greased bowl, cover, and let rise for 1 hour.

4. Roll Out Dough: Punch down the dough and roll it into a rectangle. Spread softened butter over the surface.

5. Add Filling: Mix brown sugar and cinnamon in a bowl, then sprinkle evenly over the buttered dough.

6. Shape Rolls: Roll the dough tightly into a log and cut into 12 even slices. Place rolls in a greased baking dish.

7. Second Rise: Cover and let rise for 30 minutes.

8. Bake: Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C) and bake rolls for 20-25 minutes, until golden.

Tonight, as we prayed by the fire, Sister Mary Claire and I reflected on how simple joys, like kneading dough or tending to our animals, can be offerings to God when done with love. We ended with this prayer:

“Lord, grant us the faith and simplicity of the shepherds. May we always hasten to You with joy and share Your love with others. Amen.”

Mini lay at my feet, her little squeak ball tucked under her chin, as if she understood the peace of the moment. What a sweet day this was, dear diary.

Goodnight,

Kathy

The Canticle of the Angels

December 29, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I read the meditation for today, The Canticle of the Angels, before heading to church. It was about the angel appearing to the shepherds, sharing the joyful news of Christ’s birth, and proclaiming, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will.”

On our walk to church, Sister explained how the angels teach us to glorify God in everything we do and to seek His peace in our hearts. She said the shepherds must have felt overwhelmed at first, but then their hearts were filled with wonder and joy. Sister reminded me that even the small, loving things we do—like caring for the animals or being kind to others—can glorify God and bring His peace to our lives.

Sister and I are ready for bed and are going to listen to The Sunday Sermon and say our evening prayer.

“Dear Lord, thank You for the angels who remind us to glorify You and share Your peace. Bless Mini, our loyal friend, Shaggycoat the beaver, and Omelette the brown hen and all her companions in the chicken coop. Bless Sister Mary Claire, who fills our home with Your love. Help us to live in a way that glorifies You every day. Amen.”

Mini is tucked under the bed now, and I think Shaggycoat would enjoy the warmth of the fire too.

Goodnight, dear Diary.

With love,
Kathy

Resting Close to His Heart

December 28, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I read a beautiful meditation about St. John the Evangelist before Holy Mass. As we walked home, she helped me understand it even more. She said St. John, the beloved disciple, rested his head against Jesus’ chest at the Last Supper, so close that he could hear the very heartbeat of Our Lord. She told me that his purity of heart allowed him to be so near to Jesus, and that we can strive for the same kind of closeness by loving Him with all our hearts.

I kept thinking about St. John hearing the Sacred Heart of Jesus. What must that have sounded like? Sister Mary Claire said that love for God transforms even our imagination, making it a way to draw closer to Him. So tonight, I will lie on my left side because sometimes when I do I can hear and feel my own heartbeat, If I do I’ll imagine that it’s Jesus’ heartbeat I’m hearing and feeling, as if I were as close to Him as St. John was. It’s a small thing, but maybe it will help me love Him more.

When we got home, there was a funny surprise—a pile of sticks right in front of our door! Shaggycoat must have left them there. I wondered if he is planning to move in with us or if he thinks we need more firewood, anyway it made me laugh. Mini sniffed at the pile like she was trying to figure it all out too.

As the evening gets quieter, I find myself practicing my imagination, just like Father LeRoy said to do. I can picture my brown hen now, cozy in her little nest in the hen house. She’s such a faithful hen, always laying an egg a day, and I’m thankful for her. In my mind, I can see her tucking her feathers around herself, safe and warm, and it makes me smile to think that even a little hen brings glory to God just by being who she is.

Evening Prayer:

Dear Jesus, thank You for teaching me, through St. John, how to rest close to You. Help me to imagine Your heartbeat tonight and to feel Your love more deeply. Bless Sister Mary Claire for her care, Mini for her cheerful ways, Shaggycoat for his thoughtful surprises, and my brown hen, safe in her nest. May all the small things in my life remind me of You, and may my heart grow more pure and loving every day. Amen.

Goodnight, Diary.

Love,

Kathy

The Beloved Disciple's Feast

December 27, 1955

Dear Diary,

The walk home from church today was peaceful and refreshing. The temperature had warmed to 39 degrees, making it pleasant enough for Mini to enjoy trotting ahead of us on the gravel road, her little bottom wagging with joy. She occasionally stopped to sniff at tufts of grass or piles of leaves, her energy always making me smile. Sister Mary Claire and I walked side by side, her hand resting on my shoulder as we talked about Father LeRoy’s homily.

During Mass, Father spoke about St. John the Evangelist, whose feast we celebrated today. He called St. John the beloved disciple because of his pure and faithful love for Jesus. Father said, “It was St. John’s purity of heart that allowed him to see God so clearly, even in the midst of the greatest sorrows. That purity of heart made him worthy of Jesus’ trust, to the point where Jesus entrusted His own Blessed Mother to John at the foot of the Cross.”

As we walked, Sister explained the homily more fully. “Kathy,” she said, “St. John loved Jesus with his whole heart. He wasn’t distracted by selfishness or the things of the world, which is why he could rest his head on Jesus’ chest at the Last Supper and hear His very heartbeat. His heart was open to all that Jesus wanted to give him, and that’s why he could see God’s love so clearly, even in difficult moments.” She smiled at me and added, “When we strive to have a clean heart, free of selfish thoughts or distractions, we too can see God more clearly and love Him more fully, just like St. John.”

The gray sky overhead felt soft and calming as we made our way home. Mini seemed content, and I felt a new determination to try and keep my heart open and pure, just as Sister encouraged me. The comforting scent of chicken and rice soup greeted us as we walked through the door, and Mini ran straight to her bed for a quick rest. Sister served the soup with her homemade white bread, and the meal filled the house with warmth and love.

Chicken and Rice Soup Recipe

Ingredients:

• 2 large chicken breasts (with skin, for added flavor)

• 1 cup uncooked rice

• 6 cups water (more or less, depending on your preference)

• 3 carrots, chopped

• 2 celery stalks, chopped

• Salt and pepper, to taste

Instructions:

Sister always keeps it simple. She places the chicken, rice, water, carrots, celery, salt, and pepper all into one big pot and simmers it together until the chicken falls apart and everything is tender. She says the skin on the chicken adds all the flavor, and she’s right—the soup is so rich and tasty.

It’s the perfect meal for a day like this, warm and hearty, filling the house with a cozy feeling of home.

Prayer

Dear Jesus, living in Mary, thank You for the example of St. John, who teaches us how to love with a pure and faithful heart. Help me to strive for that same purity of heart so that I can grow closer to You each day. Thank You for Father LeRoy’s words, for Sister Mary Claire’s loving guidance, and for the peaceful walk home with Mini. May Your Blessed Mother guide me always and teach me to love You with the simplicity and devotion of St. John. Amen.

Spiritual Bouquet: “He that loveth cleanness of heart for the grace of his lips shall have the king for his friend.” (Proverbs 22:11)

Until tomorrow, dear diary,
Kathy

The Strength of St. Stephen

December 26th, 1955

Dear Diary,

Sister Mary Claire and I walked home from Church this morning, our breaths clouding the crisp winter air, while Mini trotted ahead of us, her little legs working double time. She was in such fine humor, sniffing at everything and wagging her bottom in delight at the sights and smells of the day.

Before Mass, we read the meditation on St. Stephen, and Sister Mary Claire explained it to me so beautifully that my heart feels full even now. She said that the Holy Ghost dwelt in St. Stephen's heart because it was pure and spotless. The grace that filled him gave him courage—courage to face even the greatest dangers, knowing that Christ stood ready to welcome him into eternal bliss.

Sister Mary Claire said that the strength of St. Stephen wasn't just his own but a gift of the Holy Spirit, who filled him with burning love and faith. His eyes and heart were always turned toward heaven, which is why he saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at His right hand. I tried to imagine what it must have been like to look into heaven as St. Stephen did. Sister Mary Claire said it must have been like a foretaste of heaven itself—pure joy and peace.

She reminded me that we, too, must make our hearts a pure and pleasing place for the Holy Ghost to dwell. She said that by doing so, we can have the same kind of strength that St. Stephen had, even when things are difficult. I hope I can remember this when I feel afraid or unsure.

This evening, we lit the fire and sat quietly together, Mini curled up at my feet. As the flames danced, I said a little prayer, thinking of St. Stephen and the strength he must have had.

Dear Lord,

 
Thank You for the example of St. Stephen, who trusted You so completely and let the Holy Spirit fill his heart with strength and love. Please help me to follow his example by keeping my heart pure and my thoughts turned toward You.

St. Stephen, brave and holy martyr, I ask you to pray for me. Teach me to have the courage you had and to look always toward heaven when I feel weak or afraid. If it's not too much to ask, could you help Mini stay her happy little self? She's so much like a bright light for me.

Amen.

Good night, dear Diary. I hope I can grow to have just a little of St. Stephen's strength tomorrow.

Love,
Kathy

Merry Christmas

December 25, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I walked home from St. Mary’s after the most beautiful Christmas Mass. The sun had just risen, casting a golden light over the frosty fields, and everything felt so still and holy, as if the whole world was quietly rejoicing in the birth of our Savior.

As we walked, I couldn’t help but ask Sister what it must have been like on the night Jesus was born. “What was it like to see Him in the manger, Sister? What must Mary and Joseph have felt?”

Sister Mary Claire smiled softly and looked ahead toward the grove near the house. “Do you remember the old garage in the grove, Kathy? The one covered with limbs and branches?”

I nodded, picturing the leaning structure, its roof dappled with light that filtered through the trees.

“Imagine that as the stable in Bethlehem,” she said, her voice gentle but full of wonder. “Picture its rough wooden walls, the smell of hay, and the quiet hum of animals. And there, in the humblest of places, lies the newborn Jesus. His tiny body is wrapped in swaddling clothes, and He rests in a crib of hay surrounded by angels.

I could almost see it—Baby Jesus, so small, so fragile, yet full of divine power and love. I thought of the words I had read in my prayer book during Advent: “This Child is the eternal Word made flesh, Who fills heaven and earth, yet chooses to humble Himself to be born in a stable.”

Sister Mary Claire continued, “This Child came into the world not with grandeur but in perfect poverty and humility. Imagine offering your own heart to Him, Kathy, as a place of warmth and welcome, just like that little stable.”

As we reached the house, I felt a deep peace in my heart. Sister’s words made Bethlehem feel so close, as if Jesus was right here with us, even now.

Before I went to help with breakfast, Sister and I paused for a moment to pray together. I whispered a prayer from my book:


Morning Christmas Prayer


“Behold, my soul, how the Heart of the Christ-Child burns with love for you. Will you not finally begin to love Jesus, Who has so loved you? O Mary and Joseph, give me of the fire of your love, that I may celebrate this mystery in a worthy manner. Let us hasten to the crib of Bethlehem and offer ourselves as an oblation to the Infant Savior. Then the peace which the angels announced will fill our hearts and we shall partake in the fullest measure of the graces and blessings which the Infant Savior so gladly bestows on well-prepared hearts.”

Mini greeted us at the door with her little squeaky ball, wagging her bottom happily. Everything about this morning feels special, as if the stable of Bethlehem is not so far away after all.

Merry Christmas, dear Diary.


With love,

Kathy

A Christmas Eve of Reflection and Warmth

Dear Diary

December 24, 1955

This evening was so special, it felt like my heart was bursting with joy! Sister Mary Claire and I went to evening Mass very early so we could find time to reflect and pray in the quiet before the altar. I tucked Mini under the pew at my feet, and she curled up so peacefully that I could barely feel her there.

We brought along our little red book of meditations for Christmas, and tonight the meditation was about Our Blessed Mother preparing for the birth of Jesus. Sister Mary Claire read aloud softly, her voice warm and gentle:

“Consider how ardently the Blessed Virgin longed for the moment of the birth of her Divine Child! Her intimate union with the Lord and God of her heart, her desire to see and adore Him visibly in the flesh, her ardor to present her treasure to the world for the salvation of mankind…”

Sister Mary Claire paused and said, “Kathy, think of Mary’s heart—so full of love and hope, yet so willing to accept the poverty of that stable. She shows us that true happiness doesn’t depend on riches or comfort, but on trusting God completely. Isn’t that something to ponder as we kneel here tonight?”

I nodded, my own heart stirred by the thought. How could Mary, so young, so humble, prepare herself to hold the Savior of the world? I hope my little prayers, though small, are enough to please Jesus and Mary too.

After Mass, we walked home with Mini trotting beside us. The stars were so bright, as if they too were rejoicing for Christmas. Supper was simple but warm—a bowl of chili soup with fresh bread. The smell of the bread filled the kitchen, and it reminded me of how Mary and Joseph must have felt grateful for even the little things that night in Bethlehem.

Before bed, I knelt beside Sister Mary Claire, and we prayed together:

“O Infant Jesus, born of Mary, fill our hearts with Your peace and love. Help us to adore You with a pure heart, just as Your mother did that holy night. May we keep You close always. Amen.”

Mini curled up under my chair, wagging her little bottom as if to say, “I’m here too!” And I smiled, because tonight, everything felt just right.

Goodnight, dear diary. Merry Christmas Eve.

Love,

Kathy

Simple Chili Recipe

• 1 pound ground beef

• 1 small onion, chopped

• 1 can (15 ounces) kidney beans, drained and rinsed

• 1 can (15 ounces) diced tomatoes

• 1 tablespoon chili powder

• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

• Salt and pepper to taste




1. In a large pot, brown the ground beef over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and cook until softened.

2. Stir in the beans, diced tomatoes, chili powder, garlic powder, salt, and pepper.

3. Simmer for 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

4. Serve hot with fresh bread.




It’s simple, warm, and perfect for a Christmas Eve supper!

Reflections on Bethlehem

 
December 23, 1955
 

Dear Diary,

This morning felt softer than the past few days, with the gravel underfoot not quite as frozen. At 36 degrees, the warmth of the sun hinted at melting the frost, leaving little patches of earth damp and alive. Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I enjoyed our walk to St. Mary’s. Mini trotted happily ahead, her little bottom wiggling with joy, her nose exploring every scent the morning offered.

Father LeRoy’s homily left us all with much to think about. He spoke of Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem, their struggle to find shelter, and how their journey teaches us about humility, trust, and the temporary nature of earthly homes. He reminded us that, like Mary and Joseph, we must see our earthly homes as shelters along the way to our true home in heaven.

As we walked back down the familiar gravel road to Camp Littlemore, Sister Mary Claire and I were quiet, each of us reflecting on the message. After a while, she spoke softly, “Kathy, as cozy as Camp Littlemore is, it’s not forever. None of the places we love here are. It’s important to enjoy them but to remember that everything here is preparing us for something greater.”

Her words settled in my heart. I looked up at the bare trees, their branches reaching to the sky, and thought about how even this simple, beloved place—our prayer wagon, the cave sanctuary, the hens, and Mini’s playful antics—are all gifts to help us learn about God and long for heaven. It’s bittersweet to think about, but also comforting.

For lunch, Sister Mary Claire brightened the day with a special treat. She pulled out Julia Child’s recipe book and made creamed carrots. She used heavy cream, and the buttery, rich smell filled the little kitchen. We sat together, savoring each bite. “Even temporary homes need good food,” she teased, smiling at me. I laughed and agreed, thankful for the simple joy of sharing this moment with her.

As the day wound down, Mini curled up by the fire while I wrote a letter to Vreni. I shared some of the homily with her and reflected on how we’re all just journeying, like Mary and Joseph. It’s funny how thinking of them makes even the hard parts of life seem full of purpose.


Evening Prayer


“Dear Lord, thank You for reminding us today that the homes we cherish, though filled with blessings, are only temporary. Like Mary and Joseph, may we journey with trust, knowing You are preparing a place for us that is everlasting. Help us to treasure the gifts You give us here without clinging to them too tightly, always keeping our eyes on heaven. Thank You for the comfort of family, the beauty of simple meals, and the joy of this season as we await Your coming. Amen.”

Good night, Diary. Tomorrow brings us closer to Christmas—and, somehow, closer to heaven, too.

Love,

Kathy

Julia Child’s Creamed Carrots

Ingredients:

• 1 pound of carrots, peeled and sliced into thin rounds

• 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter

• 1/2 cup of heavy cream

• A pinch of salt

• A pinch of sugar

• Fresh parsley (optional, for garnish)

Directions:

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the carrots until tender, about 10 minutes. Drain and set aside.

2. In a skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the cooked carrots and sauté for 2-3 minutes.
3. Lower the heat and stir in the heavy cream, salt, and sugar. Cook gently until the cream thickens and coats the carrots, about 5 minutes.
4. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve warm.

These turned out so creamy and delicious—perfect for a cozy winter day!

Love you again,  Kathy

 

Waiting in Hope

December 22, 1955


Dear Diary,


Another slick road this morning, and Mass was canceled again. It felt awful to miss the Fourth Sunday of Advent. Sister Mary Claire said we must trust that God understands, but my heart ached not being able to light the final candle on the Advent wreath at church. We’re all hoping for better weather this week—Christmas is so close, and I pray we’ll be able to celebrate together in the warmth of St. Mary’s.

Sister Mary Claire tried to lift my spirits with a lesson from today’s meditation. She reminded me how Bethlehem, though small and insignificant, was chosen for the greatest miracle of all. She said this teaches us that God often works through the little and humble, not the grand and impressive. It made me think—maybe missing Mass today is one of those moments where we have to trust that God is still working, even in the disappointment.

To keep busy, we baked cut-out cookies with the Nativity-shaped cutters Sister found at the thrift store. The dough rolled out perfectly, and the kitchen smelled like sugar and Christmas. Mini kept close by, hoping for crumbs, and I had so much fun decorating the cookies. We frosted Mary in blue, Joseph in brown, and Baby Jesus in soft yellow. It felt like we were crafting a little edible Nativity.

As the day quieted, we gathered by the fire for evening prayers. Sister Mary Claire led us in a longer prayer tonight, and I found it so comforting. We prayed:

“O Lord, thank You for the gift of Advent, even on days when we cannot gather in Your house. Prepare our hearts for the coming of Your Son, and help us trust You in all things, both big and small. Teach us to see Your hand in the humble moments of our lives, and give us patience as we await Your blessings. O Mary of Grace, guide us to be faithful and to trust in God’s love, even when the way is unclear. Amen.”

The warmth of the fire and Mini curled up by my feet made everything feel peaceful again. I’m hoping the roads will clear soon, but for now, I’ll hold on to the hope and light of this season.


Love,

Kathy

Sister Mary Claire’s favorite Cut-Out Cookies

• 2 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• ½ teaspoon salt
• ¾ cup unsalted butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. In a bowl, mix the flour, baking powder, and salt.

2. In another bowl, beat the butter and sugar until fluffy. Add eggs and vanilla, mixing well.

3. Gradually add the dry ingredients until combined. Chill the dough for 1 hour.

4. Roll out the dough on a floured surface, cut into shapes, and bake at 375°F for 8–10 minutes.

5. Decorate as you like once cooled!

Love again,
Kathy

The First Day of Winter

December 21, 1955 

Dear Diary,

This morning was bitterly cold, just 12 degrees! Mini darted outside for her usual morning roundabout, eager to investigate the frosty air. She sniffed at the frozen ground, did a quick circle of the yard, and then bolted back inside as if to say, “Not today!” I think even she knew the gravel road to church would be too much for her little paws.

Sister Mary Claire and I bundled up and headed out alone. The frost glistened like crystals under the rising sun, but the cold bit through my mittens. When we reached the church, it was as quiet as a winter forest. We were the first ones there. Mini was probably smart to stay behind by the warm stove.

While we waited for Mass to begin, we read today’s meditation about St. Thomas. I love the Gospel story where he touches the wounds of Jesus and then declares, “My Lord and my God!” Sister and I whispered about how his doubt led him to deeper faith. She said, “Kathy, faith doesn’t always mean having all the answers—it means trusting even when you can’t see.” I thought about that as we knelt together, the flickering candles casting a warm glow over the altar.

On the way home, I asked Sister if we could make bean soup to warm up. She chuckled and said no, but she had already cooked beans to make burritos instead. That idea sounded even better!

We worked together in the kitchen, and Sister showed me how to fold the tortillas just right so they wouldn’t fall apart. They turned out so delicious, warm and cheesy, just the thing for a cold winter day.

Here’s our recipe:

Simple Bean Burritos

• 2 cups cooked pinto beans (seasoned lightly with salt and garlic)

• 4 large flour tortillas

• 1 cup shredded cheese (cheddar or Monterey Jack is perfect)

• Sour cream, for topping

• Optional: Chopped lettuce, diced tomatoes, and a dash of hot sauce


1. Warm the tortillas in a dry skillet until soft.

2. Slightly mash the cooked beans and spread them over the tortillas.

3. Sprinkle shredded cheese on top of the beans.

4. Fold each tortilla into a burrito shape.

5. Place the burritos back in the skillet to heat until the cheese melts.

6. Serve with sour cream and any toppings you like.

The burritos were heavenly, and they warmed me right to my toes.

Prayer:

“Lord Jesus, through the example of St. Thomas, teach me to trust in Your love and to proclaim, ‘My Lord and my God!’ even in times of doubt. May my faith grow stronger each day, leading me to live with hope and joy. Amen.”

Goodnight, Diary. Mini is tucked under the bed, and the house is warm and cozy. I’m already looking forward to Christmas, just a few days away.

With love,

Kathy

Sources:  Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925

Making Room for Jesus and Butter Gravy

December 20, 1955

Dear Diary,

The ice storm last night left the world sparkling and frozen, with the roads too dangerous for travel. Mass was canceled, so Sister Mary Claire and I stayed home. After breakfast, we settled by the fire with one of her meditation books.

Today’s reflection was about the souls in which Jesus does not take up His permanent abode. Sister read aloud:

“Though our Blessed Lord desires ardently to dwell in our hearts, few know how to secure His presence permanently. Divine grace is not imparted to all in the same measure.”

Sister explained how Jesus longs to dwell in our hearts, but He cannot stay where there is clutter or carelessness. “It’s not enough to invite Him in, Kathy,” she said. “We must prepare a space for Him through prayer and effort, keeping it clean from sin and full of love.”

She continued, “When we let distractions or selfishness creep in, it’s like shutting the door on Him. He knocks, but we must open the door and make Him feel welcome.” As she spoke, I thought about the ways I could better prepare my heart. Sister reminded me that self-denial and gratitude are the best ways to make room for His grace.

We prayed this prayer together:

“Lord, help me to prepare my heart for You. Teach me to let go of distractions and make more room for Your love and grace. May I live not for the fleeting things of this world but for the peace that comes from living for You. Amen.”

The afternoon was spent on chores, with Mini darting around the yard, exploring the icy patches in her own joyful way. When Sister started boiling potatoes for dinner, she suggested we make butter gravy to go with them. She insisted I stir the gravy myself, saying, “The best way to learn is to do it with your own hands.”

With her guidance, I melted the butter, stirred in the flour until it was smooth, and slowly whisked in the milk. Sister kept a watchful eye, giving gentle instructions as I went. “Be patient, Kathy. Keep stirring until it thickens. Cooking, like prayer, takes focus and care.”

Mini sat by my feet the whole time, watching with great interest, probably hoping for a taste of the potatoes. When the gravy was finally ready, Sister declared it perfect. We both laughed as she told me again about her first teaching job and how she had discovered butter gravy for the first time.

Here’s the recipe for the White Butter Gravy that we made:

• 2 tablespoons butter

• 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

• 1 ½ cups milk

• Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

1. Melt butter in a skillet over medium heat.

2. Stir in flour and cook for 1-2 minutes until smooth.

3. Slowly add milk, whisking constantly, and cook until thickened.

4. Season with salt and pepper.

The day ended with Mini snoozing by the fire, the house quiet and warm. I felt grateful for the lessons of the day, both spiritual and practical.

Goodnight, dear Diary.

Love,
Kathy

Meditation Source:  Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925

 

25995

Kolaches and the Gift of Prayer

December 19, 1955

Dear Diary,

The frost lay thick on the ground this morning, sparkling under the faint light as Sister and I set off for St. Mary’s. The air was sharp and cold, but the walk felt peaceful, with Mini trotting beside us, her little bottom wagging as if to keep us both cheerful. The crunch of the gravel beneath our boots was the only sound apart from my whispered prayer: "O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, may I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod!"

We arrived at the church early, as always, so I could hand out the daily gospel readings. Parishioners smiled warmly as they took the papers from my hands, with Mini standing nearby to greet them with her usual enthusiasm. Once everyone was seated, Sister and I joined them, our hearts ready for the Advent Mass.

Afterward, we stayed for a little while to read today’s meditation: "Prepare ye the way of the Lord." It spoke so beautifully about the necessity of prayer, especially during Advent. Sister explained that Jesus, even before His birth, was already preparing the world for salvation, united with the Father and offering prayers on our behalf. The thought of Him praying for us while still in Mary’s womb filled me with wonder. It reminded me of how important it is to pray fervently during this season of waiting and preparation.

When we returned home, Sister had all the ingredients laid out for baking kolaches. As we worked, she shared again the story of the recipe. It was given to her years ago, when she was still a student at St. Boniface Grade School in Sioux City. Her class had visited the Carmelite monastery, where the nuns had baked fresh kolaches for the children to enjoy. One of the elderly nuns, who was growing frail, wanted to share something special with the younger generation. She had written down her mother’s kolache recipe for each child, her handwriting plain but shaky, reflecting her age and care. Sister has kept her copy of that recipe tucked safely in her prayer book ever since, saying it’s a fitting place for something so treasured.

Today, that very recipe, written in the nun’s shaky but steady hand, was the one we used to make our kolaches. Sister smoothed the old paper gently as she read it aloud to me. Here it is, just as the nun wrote it:

Kolache Recipe

Ingredients:

4 cups all-purpose flour
1 packet active dry yeast (2 ¼ tsp)
1 cup warm milk
½ cup sugar
½ cup melted butter
2 large eggs
½ tsp salt
Strawberry jam (or your favorite flavor)

Instructions:

Dissolve the yeast in the warm milk with a teaspoon of sugar. Let it sit for about 5 minutes until frothy.
In a large bowl, mix the flour, sugar, and salt. Add the yeast mixture, melted butter, and eggs. Knead the dough until it is soft and elastic.
Cover the dough and let it rise in a warm spot for about an hour, or until doubled in size.
Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).
Divide the dough into small balls and place them on a baking sheet. Flatten each ball slightly, then make a small indent in the center with your thumb.
Fill each indent with a spoonful of jam. Let the kolaches rise again for 20 minutes.
Bake for 15–20 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool slightly before enjoying.

When the kolaches were ready, they smelled just as Sister described from her childhood—warm and sweet, with the jam bubbling gently in the center. We enjoyed them by the fire with glasses of milk, Mini curled up beside us.

As the day came to a close, I knelt to say my evening prayer:

"Lord, thank You for the gift of this Advent day, for the warmth of traditions and the blessing of Sister’s stories. Help me to prepare my heart for You through prayer and love, and may the small acts of this day—like baking from a treasured recipe—remind me of Your constant presence in all things. Amen."

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

Sources: 

1. Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

2. An elderly nun - Carmelite Monastery, Sioux City, Iowa. 

25735

The Crooked Shall Be Made Straight

Wednesday, December 18th

Title: The Crooked Shall Be Made Straight

Dear Diary,

This morning, we started our day early. The air was crisp, only 30 degrees, and frost sparkled on the grass as Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I made our way to St. Mary’s. Mini insisted on bringing her squeaky duck along, so I told her it could come to church, but only in my backpack. She agreed, though I heard a soft squeak every now and then as we walked.

We arrived while the church was still quiet and dim, save for the soft glow of candles. Sister Mary Claire and I sat down in the first pew to read our meditation book before Mass. Today’s passage, “The crooked shall be made straight,” felt so fitting. As I read about removing distractions and striving to walk uprightly with God, I thought about how easy it is for me to wander down “crooked paths”—worrying too much about chores, what others think, or even letting Mini’s antics distract me. Sister Mary Claire asked, “Do you think we all have crooked paths, Kathy?” I nodded and answered, “Yes, but I think we can make them straight again with God’s help.”

When Mass began, I still had the meditation on my mind, and Father LeRoy’s homily felt like it came straight from my little book! He spoke about removing obstacles from our hearts, about how God cannot unite Himself with us unless we make a clear path for Him. I wondered, Does Father LeRoy have a meditation book like ours too? It seemed too perfect to be a coincidence.

After Mass, Mini could wait no longer. The moment I unzipped my backpack, she snatched her squeaky duck and proudly carried it to the back of the church. Parishioners laughed as Mini went around showing off her toy, squeaking it as though it were the most special treasure in the world. Sister Mary Claire smiled and said, “Well, perhaps even a little crooked squeaky path can bring joy.” I think she’s right.

When we got home, we decided to bake cookies for our neighbors. Sister Mary Claire pulled out a recipe for Frosted Christmas Cut-Out Cookies from the church cookbook. The kitchen soon smelled like butter, sugar, and vanilla, and I loved helping sift the flour and roll out the dough. Mini sat nearby, her nose twitching at the smells, and Sister Mary Claire made a tiny star-shaped cookie just for her.

Now, the fire is crackling softly, and I can still taste the frosting on my tongue. I keep thinking about today’s meditation and Father LeRoy’s words. It’s comforting to know that even if I wander off onto crooked paths, God’s grace will always help me make them straight again.

Evening Prayer:
O Divine Saviour, help me to clear my heart of all distractions so You may find a straight path to me. May I walk simply and joyfully with You always. Amen.

FROSTED CHRISTMAS CUT-OUT COOKIES

l½ c. butter

½ c. white sugar
1½ tsp. vanilla
1 egg
½ c. lard
½ c. powdered white sugar
2¼ c. flour, sifted
½ tsp. soda
½ tsp. cream of tartar
½ tsp. salt

Frosting: Cream½ c. solid Crisco shortening
½ c. butter
1/8 tsp. salt
1½ tsp. vanilla
5 c. powdered sugar plus ¼ c. milk (may need more)

Mix butter, lard, sugars, cream together with mixer. Add vanilla, egg, mix well. Sift soda, cream of tartar, salt, and flour. Add and mix gradually to mixture. Take desired portion, roll out ¼"–½", cut cookies out. Bake at 375 degrees 5–8 min. on ungreased pan.

Frosting: Beat fluffy. Take small amount, ready to decorate. Frosted cookies freeze well.

Goodnight, Diary. I’ll try to keep my little path straight tomorrow.
Kathy

Sources: 

1. Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

2. St. Teresa's Cook Book (St. Teresa's Altar Society) - Beresford, South Dakota. 

25596

A Well Prepared Heart

December 16, 1955

Dear Diary,


This morning, I bundled up with Sister Mary Claire for Mass, bringing along my meditation book to read before the prayers began. Today’s reading said, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord,” and I thought about what it means to make a place for Jesus. The Affections in the meditation were so beautiful, like a whispered prayer straight to my heart:

"O my God, in union with Holy Church I cry to Thee with all the longing of my soul. Purify my soul, O Lord, by Thy grace, that my Savior may find it well prepared!"

As I sat there in the quiet pew, I prayed these words myself, asking God to help me clear away the distractions and selfishness that keep me from Him. Sister Mary Claire told me later, “It’s not about having a perfect heart, Kathy, but one that’s humble and open.” I thought of how much I long to have Jesus enter my heart and find it ready, clean, and filled with love.

Back at home, Sister made tavern sandwiches from the St. Teresa’s Altar Society Cookbook. The smell was heavenly, and Mini happily squeaked her duck under the table. The rest of the day was peaceful. I started writing my letter to Vreni, telling her how Sister says Advent is like preparing a little room for Jesus in our hearts.

Tonight, Sister led us in an evening prayer, and I quietly repeated the words from the meditation:

"Enlighten us by the grace of the Holy Spirit, O Lord, and remove from my heart all that hinders me from Thy will."

Mini is tucked beside me now, her little duck safe in her paws. I feel warm and calm, like my heart has already started its own quiet preparation.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

Tavern Sandwiches

A simple and hearty recipe -perfect for these chilly December days.

(Mrs. David Zweifel)

Ingredients:

• 1 pint water
• 1 large onion, chopped
• ¾ cup ketchup
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 2 tablespoons dry mustard (or plain mustard)
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 2 pounds ground beef (or 1 pound ground beef and 1 pound ground sausage)

Instructions:

1. Boil 1 pint of water and add the chopped onion.
2. Stir in ketchup, chili powder, dry mustard, salt, and pepper. Cook this mixture for 6-7 minutes.
3. Add the browned and drained ground meat (or meat mixture).
4. Simmer on medium heat for about 2 hours. Stir occasionally to keep from sticking.

Serving Tip:
Serve hot on buns or bread. You can broil the sandwiches briefly if you like them browned and bubbly.

 

Sources: 

1. Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

2. St. Teresa's Cook Book (St. Teresa's Altar Society) - Beresford, South Dakota. 

25448

A Well - Prepared Heart

 
December 16, 1955

Dear Diary,


This morning, I bundled up with Sister Mary Claire for Mass, bringing along my meditation book to read before the prayers began. Today’s reading said, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord,” and I thought about what it means to make a place for Jesus. The Affections in the meditation were so beautiful, like a whispered prayer straight to my heart:

"O my God, in union with Holy Church I cry to Thee with all the longing of my soul. Purify my soul, O Lord, by Thy grace, that my Savior may find it well prepared!"

As I sat there in the quiet pew, I prayed these words myself, asking God to help me clear away the distractions and selfishness that keep me from Him. Sister Mary Claire told me later, “It’s not about having a perfect heart, Kathy, but one that’s humble and open.” I thought of how much I long to have Jesus enter my heart and find it ready, clean, and filled with love.

Back at home, Sister made tavern sandwiches from the St. Teresa’s Altar Society Cookbook. The smell was heavenly, and Mini happily squeaked her duck under the table. The rest of the day was peaceful. I started writing my letter to Vreni, telling her how Sister says Advent is like preparing a little room for Jesus in our hearts.

Tonight, Sister led us in an evening prayer, and I quietly repeated the words from the meditation:

"Enlighten us by the grace of the Holy Spirit, O Lord, and remove from my heart all that hinders me from Thy will."

Mini is tucked beside me now, her little duck safe in her paws. I feel warm and calm, like my heart has already started its own quiet preparation.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

Tavern Sandwiches

A simple and hearty recipe -perfect for these chilly December days.

(Mrs. David Zweifel)

Ingredients:

• 1 pint water
• 1 large onion, chopped
• ¾ cup ketchup
• 2 tablespoons chili powder
• 2 tablespoons dry mustard (or plain mustard)
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 2 pounds ground beef (or 1 pound ground beef and 1 pound ground sausage)

Instructions:

1. Boil 1 pint of water and add the chopped onion.
2. Stir in ketchup, chili powder, dry mustard, salt, and pepper. Cook this mixture for 6-7 minutes.
3. Add the browned and drained ground meat (or meat mixture).
4. Simmer on medium heat for about 2 hours. Stir occasionally to keep from sticking.

Serving Tip:
Serve hot on buns or bread. You can broil the sandwiches briefly if you like them browned and bubbly.

 

Sources: 

1. Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

2. St. Teresa's Cook Book (St. Teresa's Altar Society) - Beresford, South Dakota. 

The Life of Mary, in Union With Jesus

 

Monday, December 16, 1955

Dear Diary,

The morning began with Mini hurrying down the gravel road to St. Mary’s, her little legs moving so quickly that I almost had to run to keep up. She knows it’s Monday, just like every other day we go to Church, but she still acts like it’s something new and exciting. I think she was especially eager today, as though she couldn’t wait to greet everyone.

At Mass, Father LeRoy spoke about the Life of Mary in union with Jesus and read from the Gospel of John: “And the word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” He explained how the Blessed Virgin became a living tabernacle, carrying Jesus within her, and how all her joy came from Him alone. Mary’s happiness was not in the things of this world but in knowing, loving, and serving Jesus.

I tried to imagine how peaceful Mary’s heart must have been—so full of Jesus that nothing else mattered. On the way home, I asked Sister Mary Claire, “How do we live in union with Jesus like Mary did?” Sister smiled at me and said, “We invite Him into everything, Kathy—our thoughts, our prayers, our work—and do it all for love of Him.” I tucked that away to remember.

This afternoon, Sister Mary Claire decided to bake banana bread. She had some very ripe bananas saved in the freezer, and it seemed the perfect day for baking. She pulled out the St. Teresa’s Altar Society Cookbook from Beresford, South Dakota, and said this recipe was always a favorite. Sister uses real butter from the Kalona dairy instead of oleo—she says it makes all the difference.

I got to mash the bananas while Sister measured the dry ingredients, but I must have been a little too enthusiastic because a bit of banana slipped off the spoon and plopped onto the floor. Before I could react, Mini darted over, snatched it up, and wagged her little bottom proudly as if she’d helped us with the baking. Sister Mary Claire laughed and said, “Well, I suppose Mini earned her share!”

Here’s the recipe:

Banana Bread

• ½ cup softened butter 

• 1 cup sugar

• 2 eggs

• 2 cups flour

• 1 level tsp. soda

• Dash of salt

• ½ tsp. baking powder

• 3 mashed bananas

Cream the butter and sugar. Add the eggs and mix well. Stir in the dry ingredients and bananas. Pour into two 4x6 pans and bake at 350 degrees.

The whole house smelled warm and sweet as the bread baked. When it was ready, Sister cut us slices while it was still warm, and we spread a little extra butter on top. I added my favorite—grape jelly—because I always love grape jelly on banana bread. Sister gave me a funny look and shook her head, saying, “That’s a bit strange, Kathy, but I suppose one likes what they like.” I just smiled because to me, the sweet jelly with the warm bread is perfect.

But then the day turned very sad. As we were finishing up our supper, Sister received a phone call. When she hung up, her face was quiet and solemn. She told me that Adam, one of our young farm neighbors, died last night—on the third Sunday of Advent. He had a heart attack, and now he’s gone. I couldn’t believe it. He was so young, and he leaves behind three little children—one of whom is in a wheelchair. Sister and I sat silently for a long time. I kept thinking how it was Gaudete Sunday, the Sunday of joy, and yet this sorrow came instead. I will always remember that Adam died on that day. Oh, dear Lord, have mercy on him and his family.

Evening Prayer:

Dear Lord, please have mercy on Adam’s soul and welcome him into Your heavenly home. Comfort his wife and children, especially the little one who cannot walk. Let them feel Your love and strength through this sadness. Help me to be grateful for every day You give me. Amen.

Goodnight, Diary.


Kathy

Sources:

Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

 

St. Teresa's Cook Book (St. Teresa's Altar Society) - Beresford, South Dakota. 

 Yesterday's Sunday Sermon

Click on Vreni's Radio Below :))

The Humility of St. John and a Simple Third Sunday of Advent

December 15, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning dawned crisp and cold—32 degrees at the farm. Sister Mary Claire and I bundled into our warmest clothes, and of course, Mini trotted alongside us, her little bottom wagging the whole way as we walked the gravel road to St. Mary’s. We handed out the Gospel readings to the parishioners before Mass, and Mini, ever the little greeter, brought smiles to everyone.

Back home, we thawed out by the fire while Sister made meatloaf sandwiches for lunch. We had leftover Ann Landers meatloaf, and she layered thick slices onto ever-soft Wonder Bread with just a bit of mustard, mayonnaise, and crisp lettuce. It was simple, but so comforting with warm tea. Mini curled up under the table, content as could be.

After lunch, I reflected on the meditation for today—the profound humility of St. John the Baptist. When asked who he was, St. John replied humbly, “I am not the Christ… I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.” Though he was holy and chosen by God, he pointed everyone to Christ, “the One whose shoes I am not worthy to loose.”

His humility made me think about how often we fail to see ourselves as we truly are before God. St. John’s example challenges me to ask: “Who art thou?”—not with pride, but with the desire to grow in grace and self-knowledge. As the meditation says, “What progress might I not have made, had I corresponded generously to the graces imparted to me so abundantly!”

At day’s end, I ask for that grace: “O Divine Saviour, give me grace to know myself, that I may correct my faults, and make Thee better known to me, that I may love Thee more and more.”

Goodnight, dear Diary.

O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, may I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod. Amen.

—Kathy Jesus, 

Sources:

Jesus - The Model of Religious, Meditations for Every Day of the Year, Volume One, 1925.

 

St. Teresa's Cook Book (St. Teresa's Altar Society) - Beresford, South Dakota. 

Sunday Sermon

Click on Vreni's Radio Below :))

Be It Done Unto Me

 
December 14, 1955


Dear Diary,

Winter has locked us in its icy grip today. The temperature outside never rose above 7 degrees, and with the wind howling across the fields, it felt like 10 below zero. It was far too cold to walk to Mass, so Sister Mary Claire and I stayed home in our little farmhouse. The fire was our constant companion, crackling and glowing as we added logs throughout the day to keep the cold at bay. Mini spent most of her time curled up near the hearth, her little body soaking in the warmth.

This morning, Sister suggested we spend time meditating on the words of Mary: “Be it done unto me according to Thy word.” I read the passage slowly, letting each word sink in. It struck me how Mary’s “yes” wasn’t just a single moment—it was a lifetime of trust and surrender, even when things were difficult or uncertain. I thought about how often I hesitate when faced with something hard or unexpected. Could I have the courage to say “yes” to God in everything, just as she did?

Sister and I talked about it after we read, and she helped me see how saying “yes” can happen in the little things I do every day—whether it’s helping with chores, being kind to others, or even just keeping a cheerful heart when things don’t go my way. She said that each “yes” I give to God, no matter how small, is a way of offering myself to Him.

After our meditation, Sister decided we’d make Ann Landers’ meatloaf from the St. Teresa Cookbook for supper. She pulled out the recipe, and we got to work:

• 2 lbs. ground round steak

• 2 eggs

• 1 ½ cups bread crumbs

• ¾ teaspoon salt

• ½ cup warm water

• 1 package onion soup mix



I cracked the eggs into a big mixing bowl and stirred them up, then added the breadcrumbs, seasoning, water, and soup mix. Sister handed me the ground beef, and I mixed everything together with my hands. It felt squishy and funny, but Sister said I was doing it just right.

Next, we pressed the mixture into a loaf pan, and Sister had me place two strips of bacon on top before pouring a small can of tomato sauce over everything. The oven was hot and ready, and we baked it at 350 degrees for an hour. The smell filled the house, and even Mini perked up, sniffing the air and wagging her little bottom by the stove.

Supper was delicious, and Sister said I’d done a fine job helping. We shared a quiet meal together with warm bread and butter on the side, feeling grateful for the simple comforts of home. Mini even got a tiny bite, which she thoroughly enjoyed.

As the day came to a close, we prayed by the fire. The words of the meditation stayed with me: Mary’s “Be it done unto me according to Thy word.” I thought about how even helping to make supper today was a small way of saying “yes” to God, offering the work of my hands to Him.


O Lord,

Thank You for Mary’s perfect example of trust and surrender. Teach me to say “yes” to You, not just in the big moments, but in the small, quiet ways each day. Bless our little home and keep us safe and warm tonight. And thank You for the warmth of the fire, the care of Sister Mary Claire, and the love of Mini. Amen.


Goodnight, dear diary.


Kathy

Advent - 13th Day with Tomato Soup

Friday, December 13, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Mini and I braved the cold for our walk to Church. The frost-covered fields sparkled like they were dusted with diamonds, and although the wind nipped at my cheeks, the beauty of the morning felt like a little blessing. Mini trotted happily by my side, her little legs moving quickly to keep up.

Father LeRoy spoke so beautifully during Mass, reminding us of the power of trusting in God's plan, even when we don’t fully understand it. His words matched today's meditation perfectly: “How shall this be done?” Sister Mary Claire said Mary’s question wasn’t one of doubt but of readiness to do God’s will. I hope I can have even a little of that same faith.

When we returned home, Sister Mary Claire made the most delicious homemade tomato soup for lunch. The recipe came from the cookbook of St. Teresa’s Altar Society in Beresford, South Dakota. She used butter instead of oleo and whole milk, which made the soup extra creamy and rich. The warmth of the soup, paired with buttered bread, was exactly what we needed after the cold walk home. Mini sat by the table, looking hopeful for a taste, but she was content with the little piece of bread I shared with her.

This afternoon, Mini and I tidied the chicken coop and collected eggs. The hens seemed quite happy with the fresh straw, and their eggs are so beautiful lately — big and brown and perfect for breakfast. Mini stayed at a respectful distance from the hens today, though she gave a bark when one got too curious about her.

Now the fire is crackling, and Sister Mary Claire is humming as she writes a letter. Mini is curled up by the hearth, her nose tucked under her paw, looking completely at peace. I’ve been reflecting on the meditation all day, especially the reminder that “with God, nothing is impossible.” That truth brings such comfort, especially in the little struggles of everyday life.

O Mary, help me to trust in God’s plans and to keep my heart open to His will. May I remember that nothing is impossible with Him.

With love,
Kathy

Homemade Tomato Soup Recipe
(from St. Teresa’s Altar Society Cookbook, Beresford, South Dakota)

½ stick butter
2 tbsp. flour
1 quart tomatoes
1 tsp. baking soda
1 quart whole milk
Salt and pepper, to tasteMelt ½ stick of butter in a pan.
Stir in 2 tbsp. flour until smooth.
Add 1 quart of tomatoes and bring to a boil.
Stir in 1 tsp. baking soda, then add 1 quart of whole milk.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.

It’s simple and comforting — perfect for a cold winter day!