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
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
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