Sunday Sermon

 Dear Diary,

As the dawn stretched its arms across the Living History Farm, the day unfurled with a comforting routine. The oatmeal, rich with butter and cream, was more than just nourishment; it was a ritual that anchored me.

Sister Mary Claire and I, bundled against the crispness of an Iowa morning, set out in Tom's pickup for Des Moines. With practiced ease, Sister shifted the four gears, the pickup truck now an extension of her very capable hands. We attended Mass at St. Ambrose Cathedral, the solemnity of Lent wrapping around us like a sacred shawl.

The return journey was embroidered with the thaw of late winter. Snow surrendered to the emerging bravery of the earth, retreating from the fields and roadsides. Bishop Robert Barron's homily on Jeremiah’s prophecy played softly, mingling with the hum of the engine and the whisper of melting icicles dripping their last.

Our ride was punctuated by a delightful pause at the Maid Rite Cafe in Urbandale, a spot that's become a beacon of comfort food and familiarity. We slid into the same booth as last time, its red leather embracing us like an old friend. The loose meat sandwiches, savory and tender, were a testament to home cooking away from home. Oh! The hot fudge sundae for dessert! The rich chocolate and cool ice cream were like a symphony's crescendo, sweetly drawing the meal to a close.

The booth, with its worn table and views of the bustling cafe, was a capsule of contentment—a place where laughter mingled with the clinking of dishes and the joy of shared experiences.

As we journeyed home, the homily resonated deeper with each mile, blending with the landscape of an Iowa nearing spring's embrace. The melting snow painted pathways on the fields, the barren trees held promises of buds to come, and the clear blue sky was a canvas for our thoughts and prayers.

With each bite of our Maid Rite repast and every mile traversed under the vast heartland sky, I felt gratitude for these simple blessings—the routines, the faith, the flavors, and the fellowship.

With a full stomach and an even fuller heart, Kathy

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