Sunday, July 14, 2024

The Sunday Sermon

 
 
July 14, 1955
 
Dear Diary

This morning was an early start for me, Sister Mary Claire, and Mini. We were up with the first light to attend Holy Mass at St. Mary's. The walk to the church was peaceful and serene. Sister and I walked side by side, our footsteps crunching on the gravel path, while Mini scampered ahead, her red and white fur gleaming in the soft morning light. The air was cool and fresh, filled with the songs of morning birds.

Father LeRoy had kindly given permission for Mini to join us at Mass. He shared a delightful story about a fellow priest whose dog sat faithfully by the altar during services. This little anecdote warmed my heart, making me feel more at ease about bringing Mini along.

As we arrived at St. Mary’s, Mini instinctively found a cozy spot under the pew, settling down quietly. She seemed to understand the sanctity of the place, lying still and content as the service began. The Mass was beautiful, as always, with the gentle rays of the morning sun filtering through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor.

Father LeRoy's homily today was particularly inspiring. He spoke about the Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, focusing on the Gospel from the sixth chapter of Mark. This passage tells of Jesus sending the Twelve out on their mission, marking the very earliest moments of the Church. Father LeRoy emphasized the importance of paying attention to what the Lord told the Twelve, as these instructions are foundational to our faith. It was a powerful reminder of our mission as followers of Christ, to go forth and spread His word.

After Mass, we made our way back home, Mini trotting happily beside us. The rest of the day was quiet and reflective.

As the day drew to a close, we gathered in the Prayer Wagon for our evening prayer. The wagon, with its rustic charm and the soft glow of lantern light, provided a perfect setting for reflection and prayer. Just as Sister Mary Claire was about to read aloud from Part 2 of "Our Lady of Lourdes," we almost forgot to listen to Bishop Barron's Sunday Homily. Sister quickly turned on the radio to catch a broadcast rerun. His words were so comforting and profound that I found myself drifting off to sleep. It was as if his soothing voice was a gentle lullaby, carrying me into a peaceful slumber.

"Dear Lord, thank You for the gift of this day, for the beauty of Your creation, and for the opportunity to gather in Your name. Guide us in our mission to spread Your love and light to the world. Bless our family, friends, and all those in need. Keep us safe through the night and grant us peaceful rest. Amen."

Goodnight, dear diary.

Kathy

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