The Immaculate Conception

July 5, 1955

Dear Diary,

I was startled awake early this morning by the deep rumble of an approaching thunderstorm. The room was illuminated in quick flashes of lightning, followed by the heavy drumming of rain against the roof. My first thought was a pang of disappointment—surely, I would not be able to visit the cave today. The storm seemed relentless, each clap of thunder shaking the very walls of hope.

Sister Mary Claire and I readied ourselves for Mass despite the tempest outside. We drove to St. Mary’s in Tom's old pickup, the windshield wipers working furiously to clear our view—well, at least one of them was. The other wiper had given up the ghost, leaving half the windshield a blur of rain and streaks. Iowa thunderstorms have a way of enveloping you entirely—there’s a primal energy to them, a mix of awe and trepidation. The sky was a swirling mass of dark clouds, occasionally split by the jagged brilliance of lightning. The roads were slick and shiny, puddles and streams forming quickly and reflecting the ominous sky above.

The sound of the rain was a constant roar, punctuated by the occasional crash of thunder. As we made our way to church, the world outside seemed a blur of gray and silver, the landscape momentarily illuminated by the fierce streaks of light. The ride felt longer than usual, the pickup creeping carefully along the drenched roads. Despite the storm, the thought of John Hathaway’s room and the many books it held occupied my mind.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the picture above his desk—the Immaculate Conception, so serene and divine. There was something deeply moving about it, a sense of purity and grace that captivated me. I recalled seeing a book on the same subject among Hathaway’s collection, and I was eager to delve into it, to understand more about the mystery and beauty depicted in that image.

Sister Mary Claire must have noticed my preoccupation, for as we bounced along in the pickup, she began to explain the The Immaculate Conception to me. She said that Mary was saved by the Redemption, as we are, but in a better way—by prevention, not by cure. No act of hers nor of her parents, but the intervention of the merits of her Divine Son, saved her from the torrent which was about to descend upon her. Her words painted a vivid picture in my mind, and I felt a deep sense of wonder and gratitude for the profound grace bestowed upon Mary.

Later in the day, there was a break in the weather. I seized the opportunity to visit the cave and spent two wonderful hours reading under the lantern light, captivated by the image of Murillo's Immaculate Conception. The peace and tranquility of the cave, combined with the beauty of the artwork, filled me with a profound sense of serenity and inspiration.

Moved by the experience, I wrote my prayer and took it home to share with Sister Mary Claire. She smiled warmly as I read it to her, and we prayed together, finding comfort in the familiar words and the shared sense of faith:

“Dear Lord, grant us the strength to weather the storms of life, both within and without. Help us find solace in Your wisdom and grace, and guide us on our journey of faith. May we always seek knowledge and truth, and may Your divine light illuminate our path. Amen.”

Good night, dear diary.

Kathy 

The Picture on The Wall

July 4th, 1955 

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire and I walked to St. Mary's for the early morning Mass. The air was fresh and cool, with a gentle breeze that seemed to carry whispers of serenity. As we walked, Sister Mary Claire shared her thoughts on the beauty of the world around us, and it felt as if each step brought us closer to peace.

Father LeRoy's homily today was about the beauty of Mary, our Blessed Mother. He spoke with such reverence and love, reminding us of her purity and grace. He shared stories of how Mary has always been a guiding star for the faithful, a beacon of hope and love. His words resonated deeply within me, and I felt a renewed sense of devotion to Mary.

After our chores and breakfast, I couldn't wait to return to the cave. I hurried back, eager to explore and to write a prayer inspired by this morning's homily. As I ventured deeper into the cave, I found myself once again at the door of John Hathaway's room. This was my second visit, so the sight of the beautifully carved walnut door felt familiar. The door opened with a squeak, reminding me that I needed to bring some oil for the hinges.

Inside John Hathaway's room, I saw something that took my breath away. Hanging on the wall directly above his little desk was a picture I recognized immediately—it was Murillo's painting of the Virgin Mother. Sister Mary Claire had once told me about Murillo and his twenty-seven attempts to paint this picture. She said that after each attempt, he was not satisfied, feeling that it did not praise Mary enough. But on the twenty-seventh attempt, he created the most beautiful picture of Mary ever painted. I could see why John Hathaway must have cherished this picture. It truly captured Mary's beauty and grace.

Feeling inspired, I decided to write a prayer. I sat at John Hathaway's little desk, which seemed to hold echoes of his past reflections and writings. Opening a drawer, I found a stack of old paper, yellowed with age but still sturdy. I took one sheet and picked up John’s very own pencil, feeling a connection to him as I began to write. The pencil was worn from use, its tip sharpened to a precise point. As I wrote, I imagined John sitting here, perhaps penning his own prayers and thoughts, often glancing up at Murillo’s depiction of the Blessed Mother right in front of him.

It was comforting to think that John Hathaway, in his moments of contemplation, might have found the same solace and inspiration from Mary's image that I did now. With each glance upward, he must have felt her gentle guidance, just as I did.

Here is the prayer I wrote:

O Blessed Mother, guide me with your light. In moments of doubt and darkness, be my star. When I falter, lift me up with your grace. Help me to always seek your intercession and to love you more each day. May I see your face in heaven and find comfort in your eternal love. Amen.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Love,
Kathy

Little Lord's Light

 
July 3, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today was another remarkable day filled with spiritual wonder and inspiration. Sister Mary Claire and I took a peaceful walk to St. Mary's for early morning Mass. The sun was just rising, casting a golden glow over the fields and the tall church steeple. As we walked, I shared with Sister my eagerness to return to the cave and show her the amazing discovery I had made yesterday.

After Mass, Sister decided she should come with me to the cave to ensure everything was safe inside. Her protective nature and curiosity were comforting as we made our way back to the hidden grotto. With lantern in hand, we stepped into the cool darkness of the cave, the flickering light revealing the beauty within.

When we reached the niche at the front of the cave, Sister Mary Claire was speechless. The statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary stood serenely, illuminated by the soft glow of light from a natural window above the cave's entrance. She marveled at the divine presence the statue seemed to radiate and the tranquility of the little stream flowing beside it. This small grotto felt like a sacred space all on its own.

As we wandered further into the cave, we discovered a larger room at the back with a handmade door and frame carved to fit perfectly the room's rocky opening. With a second push the door opened and we found quite a room indeed, filled with the possessions John Hathaway had left behind. It was obvious that he had spent a significant amount of time here, and the cave, being dry, had allowed him to create a home within its walls. Most everything from the covered wagon was neatly organized inside.

To our astonishment, it seemed that John Hathaway must have taken the wagon apart and reconstructed it in the room making it part of his living quarters. This ingenious use of his resources showed how resourceful and determined he was. The scene was almost surreal, with many books and other personal items well placed and tucked away, almost as if he had known that someday someone would find this hidden sanctuary.

John Hathaway must have been a very particular man, with everything in its place, showing signs of careful thought and a deep sense of faith. His story deeply inspired me. His journey, his faith, and his determination to preserve these sacred items reminded me of the power of faith and the importance of preserving our spiritual heritage. The cave, now our Little Lord's Light, felt like a sanctuary blessed by his devotion.

As we examined more of his belongings, I couldn't help but imagine his life and the challenges he faced. His meticulous nature and the way he had cared for his possessions spoke volumes about his character. It felt almost romantic in my head, thinking about this solitary traveler who had created a haven of faith in the midst of his journey.

Moved by this discovery, I felt compelled to write a prayer to the Blessed Mother. I poured my heart into the words, hoping to capture the sense of peace and inspiration I felt in the grotto.


Blessed Mother Mary, We thank you for your loving guidance and protection. Just as you watched over John Hathaway on his journey, We ask you to watch over us in our daily lives. May this grotto, our Little Lord's Light, be a place of peace and inspiration. Help us to carry the light of faith with us always, And to find strength in your loving presence. Amen.

In the evening, I read my prayer to Sister Mary Claire. She was moved by the words and the spirit of devotion they carried. We both felt a deep sense of connection to John Hathaway and the sacred space he had created. Inspired by today's events, I have decided to write daily prayers, hoping to continue this legacy of faith and devotion.

As I write this, I feel a profound sense of gratitude for the blessings and discoveries of the past two days. This journey has deepened my faith and strengthened my bond with my flesh and blood sister Mary Claire. I look forward to the prayers and adventures that lie ahead.

With love and devotion, Kathy

The Cave

Dear Diary,

Today was a day of profound spiritual and personal discovery. Sister Mary Claire and I attended the 6 o'clock Mass at St. Mary's. As Father Leroy delivered the homily, my mind wandered, filled with anticipation for the adventure awaiting me after Mass. Today, I would return to the cave Shaggy Coat had led me to, lantern in hand, ready to explore its depths.

After Mass, I could barely contain my excitement. Sister Mary Claire gave me a knowing smile as I grabbed my lantern and made my way to the cave. The entrance loomed before me, both inviting and mysterious. As I stepped inside, the cool air and damp stone walls greeted me. The flickering lantern light cast dancing shadows, adding to the sense of adventure.

Just inside the cave, I noticed a small niche carved into the rock. Vines had crept in from outside, their tendrils curling gracefully around the stone, giving the scene an ethereal quality. The muted natural light bathed the niche, creating a surreal and serene atmosphere. To my astonishment, inside the niche stood a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The statue was beautifully crafted, her serene expression bringing an overwhelming sense of peace.

As I marveled at the statue, my eyes caught sight of a dusty bottle placed at her feet. Intrigued, I uncorked the bottle and found a neatly rolled letter. Carefully, I unrolled the paper and began to read:

"To whomever finds this,

I am a humble settler traveling through Iowa on my way to the gold fields in the Black Hills. It is the year 1874, and the land before me is vast and untamed. My wagon broke down near this spot, and with no means to repair it, I was forced to leave it behind. I had no plan to return east, for my dreams lie westward.

As I wandered, I stumbled upon this cave. The little stream running through it reminded me of the sacred waters of Lourdes. In my possession, I carried this statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a symbol of my faith and hope. Not knowing what to do with it, I placed it here, hoping it would find a safe home.

I pray that whoever discovers this cave and this statue will cherish it as much as I do. May it bring you comfort and guidance, as it has for me.

Godspeed, John Hathaway, 1874"

Reading John Hathaway's note filled me with a sense of awe and connection to the past. I could almost imagine him, weary from his journey, finding solace in this very cave. The statue, nestled in its rocky alcove, seemed to radiate a sense of divine presence.

I spent some time marveling at the statue, reflecting on the journey that had brought John here and the serendipitous discovery that had led me to this sacred spot. The little stream trickled gently nearby, and the cave's natural beauty was truly a hidden gem.

I decided to explore further and lit my lantern. But just as I did, the flame flickered and went out, leaving me in near darkness. I felt a moment of panic, but then I noticed how the natural light sufficed for the niche, casting a gentle glow.  It was as if the Blessed Virgin herself was illuminated by a divine light, making everything surreal.

I decided to leave the deeper exploration for tomorrow, when I would return with a refueled lantern. There was so much more to discover, but for today, the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary and John Hathaway's letter were enough to fill my heart with gratitude and wonder.

In the evening, Sister Mary Claire and I spent time in the prayer wagon. I shared the story of my discovery with her, and we marveled at the ways in which faith and destiny intertwine. We prayed together, and I wrote a special prayer for our evening devotion:

Heavenly Father, We thank You for the guidance and protection You provide on our journeys. Just as You led John Hathaway to this cave, You lead us through the trials of life. May the Blessed Virgin Mary, whose statue now stands as a testament of faith, watch over us. Help us to cherish the blessings and discoveries You place in our path. Grant us the strength to continue forward with faith, hope, and love. Amen.

As we finished our prayers, I felt a deep sense of gratitude for the day's adventure and the unexpected connection to the past. Today was a day I would never forget, a day where faith, history, and exploration converged in the most wonderful way. Tomorrow, I will return to the cave to explore its deeper mysteries, knowing that the Blessed Virgin Mary watches over me.

Until tomorrow, dear diary.