In the cozy warmth of the classroom, with the comforting clank of the old radiators and the serene view of St. Boniface Church through the frost-kissed window, Sister Mary Claire turned the pages of the Lenten meditation book. “Kathy,” she said softly, “today we reflect on sacrifice and submission to God's will.”
Kathy, sitting in her desk, looked up from the same line in her book, “I shall not drink it.” She was puzzled by the words.
“Those words, Kathy,” Sister Mary Claire explained, “are a reminder of Christ’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. On the eve of His crucifixion, He faced great sorrow. He prayed to God, asking if it were possible to avoid the suffering that awaited Him. Yet, He chose to accept God’s will, to drink from the cup of suffering if it was required.”
Kathy listened, her young mind trying to grasp the gravity of such a choice.
“'I shall not drink it' is not about refusing the cup, but a profound acceptance. It’s Jesus showing us the courage to embrace our challenges, trusting in God's plan, as He did. This Lent, we try to understand that level of trust and faith,” continued Sister Mary Claire, her eyes kind.
Kathy nodded, her eyes fixed on the crucifix above the blackboard. The story took root in her heart, where the warmth of faith outlasted even the steady heat from the radiators.
“Those words, Kathy,” Sister Mary Claire explained, “are a reminder of Christ’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. On the eve of His crucifixion, He faced great sorrow. He prayed to God, asking if it were possible to avoid the suffering that awaited Him. Yet, He chose to accept God’s will, to drink from the cup of suffering if it was required.”
Kathy listened, her young mind trying to grasp the gravity of such a choice.
“'I shall not drink it' is not about refusing the cup, but a profound acceptance. It’s Jesus showing us the courage to embrace our challenges, trusting in God's plan, as He did. This Lent, we try to understand that level of trust and faith,” continued Sister Mary Claire, her eyes kind.
Kathy nodded, her eyes fixed on the crucifix above the blackboard. The story took root in her heart, where the warmth of faith outlasted even the steady heat from the radiators.
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