Crossing the Gave

 
June 13, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today has been filled with such wonder and devotion. This afternoon, I asked Sister Mary Claire if she would read another Lourdes story. She smiled warmly at my request and walked to the Little Library to pick out a book. I watched her as she carefully selected a volume and returned to where I was sitting.

"Here is the story," she said, settling beside me.

She was engaged in taking off her first stocking when she heard around her as it were, the sound of a blast of wind, rising in the meadow-tract with an indescribable character of irresistible might. She believed it to be a sudden hurricane, and turned herself round instinctively. To her great surprise, the poplars which border the Gave were perfectly motionless. Not the slightest breeze stirred their still branches.

"I must have been deceived," she said to herself. As she thought again about this noise, she did not know what to believe. She began once more to remove her shoes and stocking. At this moment, the impetuous roaring of this unknown blast became audible afresh. Bernadette raised her head, gazed in front of her, and uttered, or rather strove to utter, a loud cry, which was stifled in her throat. She shuddered in all her limbs, and confounded, dazzled, and crushed in a certain manner by what she saw before her, she sank down, bowed herself entirely to the earth and fell on both knees. A truly unheard-of spectacle had just met her gaze. The narration of the child; the innumerable interrogations which a thousand sharp-sighted and inquisitive minds have put to her since that period; the precise and minute particularities into which so many intellects on the watch for discrepancies have forced her to descend, allow us to trace—with a hand as sure of each detail as of the general physiognomy—the wonderful and astounding portrait of the marvelous Being who appeared at that instant to the eyes of the terrified and transported Bernadette.  

Sister Mary Claire closed the book gently and looked at me. "Isn't it amazing how Bernadette's faith carried her through such an incredible experience?" she said. I nodded, still caught up in the vivid imagery of the story.

Afterwards, we both said a prayer, thanking the Blessed Virgin for her guidance and asking for continued strength and faith.

"Dear Blessed Mother, we thank you for your intercession and for the miraculous events that strengthen our faith. Please continue to guide us and watch over us, as you did for Bernadette. Amen."

The rest of the day at the farm was pleasant. Mini, my ever-loyal corgi, followed me around as I tended to the chores. Ronnie helped me fix a broken fence, and we both laughed when Mini tried to "assist" by barking at the hammer. The hens clucked contentedly in their coop, and I couldn't help but feel grateful for this simple, blessed life.

As the sun set, I thought again about Bernadette and her unwavering faith. I prayed that I, too, would have the strength to face whatever comes my way with such grace and trust in God's plan.

Until tomorrow, dear diary.

Kathy