Dear Diary

April 30th, 1955

Dear Diary, 

Today's reflections have found a comforting echo in the very fabric of our lives here near the newly reopened St. Mary's Catholic Church. In today's Gospel, we are reminded not to let our hearts be troubled by the fears of this world—loss of material things, esteem, or even personal intimacy. Instead, we're invited to embrace the peace that Jesus leaves with us, a peace not of this world.

This message resonates deeply as Sister Mary Claire and I busy ourselves with the revival of St. Mary’s. This historical church, now reopened for weddings, special holidays, and Eucharistic adoration, is a beacon of our community's faith and history. It's just around the corner from our Living History Farm, a mere quarter-mile ride—perfect for a short journey on my new horse.

As we scrub and polish each pew, hang fresh linens, and arrange flowers, our hearts are filled with a sense of purpose and joy. It's not just about the physical labor; it's about the spiritual renewal we're part of. Sister Mary Claire will be leading the Eucharistic adoration from time to time, and knowing her devotion and care, I am confident that many will find solace and peace here.

Please, dear diary, keep a special prayer for Sister Mary Claire and for St. Mary’s Church that it may be a place of refuge and joy for all. Also, remember Padre Leroy, who will grace us with his presence during Holy Mass.

As the day closes and we retreat to our inner prayer wagon, our hearts are light with the burden of service lifted by the peace of Christ. Let us hold fast to this peace and let it guide us in the days ahead.

Goodnight, dear diary, until tomorrow.

Kathy

LITTLE VISITS

Dear Diary - Charro

Dear Diary,

April 29th

Today’s Gospel Reflection at St. Ambrose painted a vivid picture of love in its purest form, mirroring the boundless joy that flooded my heart. It spoke of the Holy Spirit’s love, which is breathed back and forth between the Father and the Son—a love that now beats within my chest as I think of my new Mustang baby, Charro. As I received Communion, I thought of how Jesus's words bind us in love, just as I now bond with Charro.

The love and kindness my sister shows by gifting me Charro reflects the Holy Spirit's presence in our lives. In this gracious act, I see the truth of the Gospel—love is action, and my sister’s deed today has been nothing short of a divine embrace. Charro is not just a horse; he's a bridge of love, linking the selfless love of my sister to the wondrous works of the Creator.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the barn in a golden glow, I whispered a prayer of thanks beside Charro's stable. For the love that binds us, for the family that supports us, and for the Spirit that guides us, I am eternally grateful.

Gracious God, bless my dear sister, who mirrors Your love through her kindness. May our bond, like the Holy Spirit, be the love that connects and dwells within us. And as Charro gallops freely in the fields, let our spirits soar in Your boundless grace. Amen.

Signing off with a heart full of love, Kathy

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Today was special, as always, with Sister Mary Claire by my side.  After coming home from Church we nestled into the old, comforting cushions of the inner court prayer wagon, our little sanctuary on wheels. The glow from the TV painted flickers of light on our faces as we watched Bishop Robert Barron deliver the Sunday sermon. His words, so vivid and compelling, spoke of Christ not as a distant figure but as a living force within us. "Jesus is the vine, and we are the branches," he said, a reminder that we’re intimately connected to Him.

The Bishop spoke of pruning, a concept that struck a chord with me. He said the Father, the gardener, would cut away all within us that prevents the life of Christ from flourishing. It's a thought that's both daunting and hopeful, Diary. To think that our imperfections and failings could be trimmed away, leaving us more capable of bearing good fruit.

As night falls and the day ends here in the prayer wagon, the silence envelops us. I look over to Sister Mary Claire, her face serene in prayer, and I feel the peace of this place. I whisper my own little prayer, "Lord, let your loving correction guide us, and help us to grow through your wise pruning. Amen."

Goodnight, Dear Diary, until tomorrow.

Kathy

Dear Diary

 
Saturday, April 27th, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today was a canvas painted with the joy of the spirit and the vivid hues of community. Sister Mary Claire and I started our morning with the sun peeking through the curtains, beckoning us to Holy Mass at St. Ambrose in Des Moines. The message that graced us today was one of interconnectedness, of coinherence within our faith—how Jesus declares His unity with God, "Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?" This thought, endorsed by scholars like Charles Williams, friends of great minds such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, stayed with me, weaving through my prayers and thoughts like golden threads.

Mass was a symphony of voices, the congregation in harmony, the Gospel echoing through the arches. Father's homily danced in the light of the stained glass, speaking of our bond with the Divine, a bond that surpasses all earthly ties.

With hearts full, we delivered our basket of rhubarb to Ginger's Coffee Shop. Ginger, with hands as skilled as any artist's, crafted a breakfast pie that was nothing short of a masterpiece, the sausage and eggs nestled within a crust so flaky it seemed to whisper stories of the grains it once was.

In the afternoon, Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I went to a grassy meadow above Living History Farm. Sister's laughter mingled with the wind, as Mini dashed through the tall grass, her happiness as palpable as the sunlight.

Our day came full circle when Judy, with the same intuition that connects all close hearts, served us a pot pie for dinner, echoing our morning feast, enriched with Tom's home raised chicken.

As night drapes its velvet over our farm, I end with a prayer:

Heavenly Artist of days, Grant us a tapestry of moments rich and rare, Mini's mirth in meadows green, a sister's care, With every shared meal, a reminder of Your ways.

Bless Sister Mary Clare, kindest soul, my guide, Together in Your grace, we ever shall abide. As we rest, wrapped in the comfort of Your tide, A grateful heart is mine, with Mini by my side.

Good night, Diary, until the morn's new light, so clear, Under patchwork quilts, we whisper prayers, hold dear The love and life You've granted us, so near.

Yours in reflection and thankfulness, Kathy

Dear Diary

Learn More About These Two Sisters

Dear Diary,

April 27th, 1955

The dawn greeted us with a golden embrace as we drove down the misty road toward Des Moines. Mary Claire's hands were steady on the wheel of our old pickup, the horizon blooming with the colors of new beginnings.

We arrived at St. Ambrose Cathedral as the first light caressed the stained glass, and the Mass filled our spirits with a tranquil harmony. Afterwards, we found warmth and welcome at Ginger's Coffee House, where we shared a small breakfast and tales with friends.

Returning to the farm brought the earth's embrace, where Tom and Judy awaited our hands for the day's toils. Together, we lost ourselves in the labor of love, tending to the garden's needs with laughter and shared strength.

Sister Mary Claire's rhubarb, plucked with care, rested in a basket—tomorrow it would find its way to Ginger, a small token of our abundant life.

As dusk settled, we retreated to the Inner Court prayer wagon, our sanctuary on wheels. There, enveloped in the quilted tapestry of our day's work and joys, we clasped hands and offered a prayer of thanksgiving:

"Lord of the twilight, as the stars ascend, We gather our hearts and whisper amen. To Sister Mary Claire, a beacon so bright, Our gratitude flows like the river at night.

In Your grand design, we find our place, Amid the rhubarb fields, we seek Your grace. Bless our dear Ginger, and our kin so dear, With every sunrise, Your love is clear.

Now as we rest, our souls take flight, Within dreams You cradle us through the night. Thankful we are, for a day so fair, Goodnight, sweet diary, in Your tender care."

With hearts full and eyes heavy, we bid this day farewell, cherishing the bond of sisterhood that sustains us. Goodnight, dear diary, until tomorrow's light.

With a thankful heart, Kathy

Dear Diary

Learn More about these two Sisters Here

 

Dear Diary,

Thursday, April 25th, was a canvas of contemplation and simple joys. Our morning began with the Holy Mass at St. Ambrose in Des Moines, where the Ascension was the heart of the homily. We absorbed the profound message that heaven intersects with our daily lives, not distant, but close and guiding. “He took his seat at the right hand of God,” a statement of divine governance, resonated within me.

After Mass, our steps led us to Ginger's Coffee Shop, where serendipity smiled upon us. Ginger was there, and by good fortune, so was Howard, her husband. It was our lucky day to have coffee with them both—such an unexpectedly delightful encounter, sprinkling joy into our routine.

As twilight embraced the sky, we returned home to the warmth of the Inner Court. There, in the quietude, our prayers mingled with the day's reflections, seeking the guidance of our eternal sovereign. “Lord, rule over our hearts, let Your will direct our earthly journey as it does in heaven.”

As the night unfolds, we offer a prayer blending the day’s insights: “May the reign of Christ ascend in our actions, guiding us to a kingdom not made of stone, but of love and service.”

Goodnight, dear diary, until the morrow calls us anew.

 

Dear Diary

Learn More about these two Sisters Here

April 24, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today, Sister Mary Claire and I felt the spirit of the Apostles as we sat in the pews of St. Ambrose, contemplating how Jesus appeared to Thomas and the others, infusing their doubt with faith. The homily was a reminder that even in uncertainty, faith can flourish, a message that wrapped around us like a warm shawl.

This evening was special, too. We took our spirited Mini to play with other corgis at the dog park. She's learning to mingle, her little tail wagging a rhythm of joy. The laughter and barks were like music, a hymn to the simple pleasures that God grants His creatures.

As the day closed, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to our Inner Court prayer wagon, a sanctuary on wheels where the outside world fades away, and the divine feels closer. Nestled under our patchwork quilts, we whispered an evening prayer, asking the Lord to wrap us in His grace:

"Dear Lord of Tender Mercies, As the night curtains the day, we, your humble servants, thank You for the gift of faith that dispels doubt, much like Your presence did for Thomas. In the warmth of our quilts, under Your watchful stars, we ask You to bless our rest, infuse our dreams with Your love, and keep our spirit entwined with Yours. Amen."

With these words, peace settled in our hearts, the same peace that Jesus offered His disciples, a peace that we carry through the night until we wake to Your new mercies. Goodnight, dear Diary, until we meet in the morning light.

Always, Kathy

 

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Tuesday, April 23, 1955

This morning was touched by divine light as Sister Mary Claire and I woke at dawn to attend Holy Mass at St. Ambrose Cathedral in Des Moines. The homily deeply moved me, revolving around the doubt of Thomas—a theme that mirrors the uncertainties often clouding my own heart. As the priest unfolded the scripture, I found myself silently praying, yearning for the strength to emulate those who love Him, Oh Highest Good, with all their hearts. In my prayer, I beseeched help to dispel the shadows of doubt, to embrace an unreserved surrender to divine providence, finding peace and happiness in faithful certainty.

The afternoon brought a delightful respite with Tom and Judy. Over a beautiful lunch that nourished both body and spirit, we shared laughs and light-hearted stories. Later, inspired by the morning's reflections, I retreated to my desk to pour my revived spirit into "Catholic Crusoe's Chapter 3."

As dusk fell, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to the Inner Court—a sanctuary of our shared solace. There, enveloped by the soft glow of candlelight, we lifted our hearts in prayer. I whispered a humble petition for the night:

Heavenly Father, as we rest under Your watchful eyes, shelter us in Your peace. Help us carry today's lessons into our dreams, that even in sleep, our hearts may continue to seek Your truth and light. Amen.

Tucked in the warmth of our quilts, I feel the serene embrace of a day well-spent and a night promising peaceful slumber under His gaze.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

Click on Mini to see what happening on our island.

Sunday Sermon

Dear Diary,

This fourth Sunday of Easter was a day full of grace and reflection. Sister Mary Claire and I rose with the dawn and attended Holy Mass at St. Ambrose in Des Moines. Father’s sermon on the Good Shepherd was deeply moving, reminding us of the ever-present guidance and protection of our Lord. I donned my Easter dress, feeling the joy of the Resurrection anew, as Sister nodded in approval, saying it was fitting for such a blessed Sunday.

Returning home, we listened intently to Bishop Barron's sermon, which echoed the themes of care and watchfulness we’d heard at Mass. His words always have a way of illuminating the scripture, making it resonate within my heart.

The afternoon was spent in quiet labor, as I turned pages and penned thoughts, slowly reweaving the tale of 'Catholic Crusoe.' I am determined, diary, to complete another chapter soon—this story is a small testament of my faith journey, mirroring the isolation and eventual redemption we all seek.

As dusk approached, Sister and I shared in the prayers from the intercourt prayer book. The words, worn from use, still felt fresh and urgent, as if each prayer was a new conversation with the Divine.

Now, as I lay me down to sleep, I offer a simple prayer of gratitude:

Heavenly Father, as the stars take their watch, I thank You for this day of Sundays. For the wisdom imparted by Father and Bishop Barron, for the sanctuary of St. Ambrose, and the comfort of home. I am grateful for Sister Mary Claire's enduring presence, for Tom's steadfastness, for Judy's laughter, and for every moment of companionship and solitude that shapes my faith. Bless them, Lord, as they have blessed me. In the quiet of this night, I find peace, and for this, I am eternally thankful. Amen.

Goodnight, dear diary, until tomorrow’s light.

Kathy

 

Dear Diary

April 19th, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today's morning greeted Sister Mary Claire and me with a serene hush, as we attended early Mass at St. Ambrose in the heart of Des Moines. The church, a sanctuary of peace, was where we whispered our first prayers of the day. But the real surprise was yet to come. After Mass, Sister Mary Claire led me on a mysterious drive, her eyes gleaming with secrets she was eager to share.

As we arrived, I saw a quaint little cafe, its sign reading 'Ginger's Coffee,' a new blossom in our town's garden. Sister Mary Claire's surprise unfolded like a gift; our friend Ginger had spread her wings to open her very own business. The cafe was a tapestry of warmth, with scents of fresh coffee and cinnamon playfully dancing in the air. Ginger greeted us with her sunlit smile, and we knew this place was her dream woven into reality.

Breakfast was a melody of home-cooked flavors, but it was Ginger's specialty, the rhubarb pie, that had our hearts singing. Each bite was a sweet reminder of the labors in our garden and the joy of the harvest. This little slice of heaven, kissed with the essence of our own rhubarb, made the morning unforgettable.

As the day drew to a close, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to our Inner Court trailer. The tranquility of the evening was the perfect canvas for our prayers. And here, dear diary, is where I record our prayer, a whisper into the twilight:

"Dearest Lord, in the quiet of this evening, we offer you our day, the joy of friendship, and the sweetness of community. May the seeds of kindness that have been sown today blossom into a garden of grace in our hearts and in the hearts of all we meet. Amen."

With these words, our day was gently cradled into the arms of night, ready to rest until the dawn of tomorrow's adventures.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

This morning greeted us with a sharp, crisp chill, a reminder of the lingering spirit of winter. Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I ventured out for a long walk. The frost painted the grass a shimmering white, crunching softly under our steps. As we wandered through the quiet, the world seemed paused, wrapped in a serene hush.

Upon our return, the Inner Court Wagon welcomed us with the warmth of a roaring fire, thoughtfully stoked by Tom. The cozy blaze was a heartening sight, and we settled in quickly, warming our hands with cups filled with comforting warmth. I savored the rich sweetness of hot cocoa, while Sister Mary Claire enjoyed a robust cup of Judy's coffee. 

The evening brought its own magic as Sister Mary Claire, my cherished blood sister, for whom I am ever so grateful, opened our beloved Inner Court prayer book. Her voice, gentle and soothing, filled the space as she read aloud, imbuing the words with life and warmth. It's moments like these, Diary, that I feel the profound bond between us, a connection that is both a refuge and a joy.

As the day closes, I hold onto the peace that her reading brought, and I share with you the prayer she read, a prayer that seems to echo the day's tranquil beauty:

**Holy Mary, my sovereign Lady, into thy blessed trust and special custody and into the bosom of thy mercy, do I this day and every day, and at the hour of my death, commend my soul and body; to thee I commit all my hope and consolation, all my anxieties and miseries, my life and the end of my life, that through thy most holy intercession and through thy merits all my actions may be ordered and disposed according to thy will and that of thy Son. Amen.**

Goodnight, Dear Diary. Today has been a gentle reminder of the blessings of family and the quiet joys of our shared moments.

Love, Kathy

 

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

This morning, with the sun barely brushing the horizon, Sister Mary Claire and I journeyed to St. Ambrose in Des Moines for Mass. As the light streamed through the stained glass, it painted the pews and the faithful in a kaleidoscope of grace, as if the very heavens were reaching down to touch the earth. The serenity within those walls was a gentle reminder of the peace that faith can bestow upon a willing heart.

The day unfolded with the usual rhythm of prayers and chores, but it's these moments of stillness in the Lord's house that make all our daily tasks seem lighter, more purposeful.

As dusk fell and the world outside began to settle, Sister Mary Claire opened the Inner Court Prayer Book, and her voice, soft yet resonant, filled our cozy quarters. "Holy Spirit, of light from the clear celestial height, thy pure beaming radiance give," she read, and it was as if the light from the morning's Mass had found its way into our very souls.

"Come thou, Father of the poor, come with treasures which endure. Come thou light of all that live, thou of all consolers best, thou the soul's delightsome guest, thus refreshing, peace bestow." These words, so familiar and yet always new, seemed to echo around us, wrapping our evening in a cloak of divine comfort.

The prayer was a balm, a soothing end to a day spent in both the house of God and the house of His creation. It's been a long day, diary, filled with the light of faith and the warmth of sisterly companionship. I find my eyelids heavy with the day's toil and the heart's contentment.

So, I'll draw the curtains early tonight, inviting the stars to watch over us as we rest. For in the morning, we do it all again, each day a step further on this journey of faith and love.

 

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

Today's task was to unravel the complexities of "Catholic Crusoe" for clarity, delving into the Second Chapter's aged prose. My soul connects with the tale's voyage, reminiscent of our own unpredictable lives. Refining each sentence becomes a meditation, linking past wisdom to future seekers.

In quiet moments, I find solace in a sacred whisper, "In Thee alone do I place my hope, O sweetest Jesus, for Thou art my salvation and my strength, my refuge and my firmament, the fount of all good things." This becomes my lodestar, comforting me as I labor.

With hope as my companion, my work is not just editing; it is an act of devotion, echoing the enduring hope that steadies my hand.

Until tomorrow's musings, goodnight.

Kathy

Dear Diary - Sunday Sermon

April 14, 1955

Dear Diary

Today, after a soul-filling Mass at St. Ambrose, Sister Mary Claire and I nestled into our little haven, ready to absorb the wisdom of Bishop Robert Barron's sermon on our new television  (See Video Below). The excitement of this simple pleasure brings a spark to our eyes and a flutter to our hearts.

Our visit to Maid Rite Cafe brought an unexpected turn; we discovered that Ginger, our beloved Barista who felt like family, had moved away. The news left a little shadow on our hearts. We miss her already, but we're sending prayers skyward, hoping they find her and guide her to happiness in her new journey.

Life is a mosaic of hellos and goodbyes, each piece marked with its own shade of emotion. As the world outside bursts into the full bloom of spring, we too embrace the seasons of change, trusting in the renewal it brings.

With hope and faith, Kathy

Dear Diary

Dear Diary - My New Typewriter

Dear Diary

 

Dear Diary,

Today, Sister Mary Claire gave me an exciting challenge – to modernize an adventure story from 1751 for my peers and adults. I can't wait to add my own touch to this classic tale.

Sister also emphasized the importance of efficient writing for this project. She suggested I learn to use a typewriter and introduced me to Norma Faye, who teaches typing at St. Jerome's Catholic School. Norma Faye shared some fascinating insights into the future of typing. She talked about the development of the IBM Selectric, known for its distinctive spinning "golf ball" type element. This revolutionary machine, with its improved speed and quality, is set to change the world of typing. Although I'm learning on a manual typewriter, which is the latest and greatest technology of our time, it's exciting to think about what lies ahead.

This evening, Sister Mary Claire and I spent time in the Inner Court Prayer Wagon, as it has come to be known at the farm. There, she showed me the adventure story I'll be working on. I'm filled with anticipation to begin this journey.

Let the adventure begin!

With gratitude, Kathy

P.S. Thank you, Lord, for my sister and my new teacher, Norma Faye.

Dear Diary

Click Here for the Recipe

Dear Diary,

April 8th, 1955

Before the sun peeked over the horizon, the kitchen was alive with the sweet scent of rhubarb. Sister Mary Claire, with her hands tenderly working through the night's harvest, prepared for our morning baking. Together, we baked a pie, its crust golden and filling tart, a perfect offering of our labor.

We dressed in our Sunday best for Holy Mass at the grand St. Ambrose Cathedral in Des Moines. The Mass was a symphony of grace, with voices in harmony and the light streaming through stained glass, painting stories on our faces. The sermon was a tapestry of wisdom, reminding us of the humble path of service.

Afterwards, the Maid Rite Café welcomed us with its familiar bustle. Ginger, with her smile as warm as the fresh coffee she poured, was delighted with the rhubarb pie and the promise of more to come. We shared our recipe, a simple set of instructions wrapped in love.

As dusk settled, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to The Inner Court, our sanctuary on wheels. We recounted the day's grace, each person a stitch in the quilt of our prayers. For Ginger, we asked for joy and the unexpected blessings that come wrapped in everyday moments.

So, goodnight, dear Diary, and blessings to all those whose paths crossed ours today. In the quiet of our trailer, with hearts full and hands folded, we bid the world peace and slumber under the watchful eye of the Almighty.

Yours in reflection and gratitude, Kathy

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

 

Today was bittersweet. Sister Mary Claire and I sat eagerly in the bleachers, cheering on jersey Number 22, our favorite player. Despite the energy and hope in the air, our team didn’t win. Yet, as we walked back to the car, Sister shared with me a gentle reminder, "For thee alone do I place my hope, O sweetest Jesus, for thou art my salvation and my strength, my refuge and my firmament, the fount of all good things. And I remember, dear Jesus, that you never forsake those who hope in you."

It's moments like these, Diary, when earthly disappointments nudge us to lift our gaze higher. Sister Mary Claire always says the true victory lies in keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, for our final homecoming is to be with Him in Heaven forever.

Afterwards, we stopped by the Maid Rite Cafe, where the tang of rhubarb pie sweetened our day. And Sister, ever so thoughtful, promised to bring them fresh rhubarb from our garden tomorrow.

So goodnight, dear Diary, and goodnight to player number 22. May our losses on the court be gains for our souls, as each step we take brings us closer to the ultimate win — eternity with Jesus.

With hopeful heart, Kathy

Sunday Sermon

 

Friends, on the Second Sunday of Easter, we have the inexhaustible reading from the twentieth chapter of John—one of the accounts of the Resurrection appearances of Jesus. These are in many ways the core texts of our Christian faith, so it behooves us to spend some careful time looking at them. This week, I want to reflect on the shalom (peace) that the risen Christ offers his disciples—and the struggle of one disciple, who was not present, to believe.

Mass ReadingsReading 1 — Acts 4:32-35
Psalm — Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
Reading 2 — 1 Jn 5:1-6
Gospel — Jn 20:19-31

Dear Diary

April 6, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today's work in the garden brought a sense of completion as we tended to the rhubarb. The patch now extends beyond all possible needs, a testament to our efforts. The abundant harvest is a reminder that those in need of rhubarb need look no further.

As evening approached, the chill in the air led us to the warmth of our Airstream, now cozily nestled under the roof of the old Inner Court storage shed, once a calf barn. Tom and Judy worked tirelessly to fix it up for us, making it weather-tight and providing living space for our full-time stay. They even had a special, rustic-looking sign made at Dennison Sign Company in Des Moines for the building, a choice that felt serendipitous as it bore our family name. The surrounding picket fence adds to the charm of our new home. It's our first night here, and nestled under the patchwork quilts from home, there's a comforting sense of belonging – truly, there's no place like home.

In the quiet of the night, I find solace in a passage from the Inner Court Prayer Book, a gentle invocation to the Holy Ghost:

"Come Holy Ghost, send down those beams that sweetly flow in silent streams. Thou art our rest in toil and sweat, a refreshment in excessive heat, and a warmth in an April chill. O bounteous source of all our store, fill our hearts with love and more."

Goodnight, dear diary. And a special goodnight to Sister Mary Claire, my beloved sister in both flesh and spirit, my constant companion and guide. May the morrow bring blessings anew.

Yours, Kathy

Dear Diary

April 5th, 1955

Dear Diary

Today was a day full of surprises and blessings. For quite some time, Tom had been very secretive, always busy behind the house. He insisted that we not disturb him back there. The mystery of his actions kept us guessing, but today, he unveiled his secret. He invited us to come around to the back of the house, and there it was—Sister Mary Claire's little trailer, now settled at Living History Farm. Tom had contacted St. Boniface Parish in Sioux City and arranged for the trailer to be delivered here. He knew how much Sister Mary Claire missed her trailer and thought it would be the perfect place for our inner court sessions, prayers, and spiritual upliftments.

In addition to the trailer, Tom and Judy have been working tirelessly on the old shed, transforming it into a cozy and weather-tight living space. They even had a special sign made in Des Moines, which adds a rustic charm to the building. The picket fence that now surrounds this little inner court building makes it feel like a dream come true.

Our hearts are overflowing with thanks to Jesus for giving us this sacred place, and to Tom and Judy for watching out for us. May the angels and saints unite in praising the God of mercies who was so bountiful to so unworthy creatures as Sister Mary Clare and myself. And thank You, Lord, for this little spot, this little patch of ground on Your great earth.

Til Tomorrow,

Kathy

Dear Diary

April 3, 1955

Dear Diary

Today we find ourselves in a calm reverie, the festive echoes of the weekend still warm in our hearts. The Inner Court, our haven, stands steadfast beside the farmhouse, its gray walls as welcoming as ever in the serene aftermath of celebration.

Sister Mary Claire and I took respite today, embracing the tranquility of the farmstead. We delved into the garden's embrace, our hands among the blooms and buds, nurturing the earth as it awakens to spring's gentle call.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we retreated to our cherished wagon within the gray building. The wood stove's glow competed with the twilight, and in its warmth, we found peace. Here, amidst rustic simplicity, the world's clamor fades, and sisterly bonds deepen.

Our night draws to a close with heartfelt prayers, the stillness of The Inner Court wrapping around us like the most tender of embraces. We whisper our thanks for the day's gentle labors and seek solace in the night's embrace, our souls content and full of grace.

"Lord, as this day folds into the tapestry of time, bless our rest with dreams divine."

In gratitude and peace, Kathy

Dear Diary

 
Dear Diary,

 

As dusk settles, my thoughts tenderly wrap around the image of St. Boniface Church, a symbol of my formative years spent in its nurturing shadow, a sanctum where both faith and education flourished within its adjoining school. Here, in the sanctity of the Inner Court Retreat, the memory of my alma mater intertwines with the hope of sacred vows I yearn to one day exchange before its altar.

In the companionship of Sister Mary Claire, who returns from a day of tending to the lifeblood of the farm with Judy and Tom, we find solace and kindred spirits in each other's presence. Our shared reflections are a testament to the growth that sprouted from the very grounds of St. Boniface, where seeds of devotion were sown.

My heart wanders through the nave and aisles of the church where I grew up, and with every imagined step down its aisle as a bride, the future seems to unfold in divine whispers. It is a future rich with the same love and community that have cradled me since childhood, promising that the next chapter will be as steeped in grace as the last.

As the evening retreat envelops us, Sister Mary Claire and I dwell in the peace of the Resurrection’s promise. With spirits lifted high, we echo the profound truth that our present momentary trials are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed.

Forever cherishing my roots and dreaming of what’s to come, Kathy

Dear Diary

April 1st, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today, as I walked the path of reflection, I felt the presence of Jesus accompanying me. In my heart, I know that Jesus welcomes all, and together, we walk towards a place where we all belong—Heaven.

The words of today's homily resonate deeply within me: "O my beloved Saviour, let me be ever mindful that Thou wilt be my companion on this earthly pilgrimage." I am reminded of the spiritual bouquet of the day: "Jesus Himself also drawing near, went with them." What a profound mystery and grace, that He walks with us, embracing all, leaving none behind.

Tonight, I'll rest with the image of that road to Emmaus in my mind, a road walked with Jesus by my side. And tomorrow, I will wake up with the same hope the disciples felt when their eyes were opened—full of the joy of recognition and the peace of His company.

In quiet reflection and anticipation,

Kathy