Third Day

September 28, 1955

Dear Diary,

Another cold, blustery day, even worse than yesterday. My hopes of fishing by the shore of Okoboji were dashed as soon as I heard the wind whipping outside. Instead, Sister Mary Claire and I went to Holy Mass, wrapped up warm against the cold. I couldn’t stop thinking about the Gospel reading today. Jesus’ words, “Pay attention to what I am telling you. The Son of Man is to be handed over to men,” seemed so simple, yet so heavy. The disciples were too afraid to ask what He meant. I wonder if we sometimes choose not to ask difficult questions because we fear the answers might be too hard to bear.

After Mass, Sister and I headed to the little store we’d noticed on the way to church earlier this week. Mrs. Crawford’s living room has been transformed into the most charming little grocery shop. The shelves were full of the essentials, and I was so happy to find fresh milk from the Kolona Dairy, just like back home. With bread, milk, and our eggs from home, we had what we needed for breakfast. But it was when Sister quietly added two sticks of long black licorice and a bouncy ball for Mini that I smiled. I could already picture Mini’s excitement with her new toy, and Sister would surely enjoy her licorice—it’s a little tradition we share.

After breakfast, I spent the afternoon trying to sketch Antoinette, the young girl who owned the prayer book Sister has been translating. It's funny how, every time I close my eyes and try to picture her, I see Sister Mary Claire. In my mind, Antoinette has the same dark brown hair, the same serene expression. Maybe it’s because I feel like Sister carries the same kind of grace and purity that would have guided Antoinette’s prayers. The pages of her book are so delicate, and touching them feels like connecting with someone I’ve never met, yet somehow know. Each word she wrote with her hand, each prayer, speaks to something deep inside of me—like she’s still here, speaking through her words and through the gentle presence I see reflected in Sister Mary Claire.

As the day draws to a close, I offer my simple prayer for today:

Lord, through the ages, prayers remain, Binding hearts in love’s sweet chain. Let me see, in every face, Your eternal gift of grace.

Amen.

With warmth and gratitude, Kathy

Second Day

September 27, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I bundled up and set out for Holy Mass at the new church. We’re not yet fully acquainted with it, but the peaceful setting was welcoming enough as we approached. The crisp air from the lake swept around us, carrying the scent of autumn leaves, and Mini seemed to enjoy every minute of our brisk walk. Her little legs moved so quickly as she trotted beside me, her nose twitching at all the new scents.

The Gospel reading today was from Luke 9:18-22. Father Linnan's homily was thoughtful and gave us much to reflect on. He asked us to consider the question Jesus posed to His disciples: "Who do you say that I am?" Father Linnan explained how this is a personal question for each of us—an invitation to recognize Jesus as the Christ, not just in our words, but in how we live our lives. He reminded us that, just as Jesus foretold His suffering and death, we too will face hardships if we choose to follow Him. Yet, he emphasized the hope of resurrection, of being lifted from the trials of life if we stay close to our faith.

His words reminded me of something I read earlier from Father Faber’s All for Jesus: "The cross is never sought but always welcomed when it comes, for it is through the cross that the soul enters its deepest communion with God." It seems fitting, especially after hearing Father Linnan speak of the cross being a path we must walk with trust and hope in God's plan for us.

After Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I lingered for a moment outside the church, breathing in the cool air. Mini and Father Linnan’s poodle, Beignet, had a little introduction of their own. At first, Mini was shy, but soon they were sniffing each other with curiosity. I think they’ll get along fine after a few more meetings.

Back at the cabin, the cold weather kept us inside for most of the day. While Sister Mary Claire worked on translating Antoinette's prayer book, I played ball with Mini for a little while, then curled up with All for Jesus near the window, where I could still see the lake rippling in the distance. The wind howled now and then, but it was cozy in the cabin, with the warmth of the fire keeping us comfortable. The day passed slowly, but in a good way, with peaceful moments of reflection.

As the evening closes, I offer this prayer:

O Lord, we thank You for this day,
Though the winds of autumn blow our way,
In every trial, help us see,
The path You walk ahead of me.
Through cold or storm, through peace or strife,
Lead us, O Christ, to eternal life.

Amen.

Love,
Kathy

First Day at The Lake

 

September 26, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, the walk to church was even shorter than it was back at the farm — just a quick two-minute stroll to another St. Marys Catholic Church. Mini could barely contain her excitement, her little bottom wiggling as she bounced beside us, ready to meet new faces. I wasn't sure if she'd be allowed inside this church, but that worry vanished as soon as we saw Father Lennan’s poodle, lying as quiet as a mouse right next to the Sacristy on the altar. It was such a sweet sight, and Mini looked up at me as if to say, “See, I belong here too!”

Father Lennan gave a wonderful homily today, reflecting on the Gospel reading from Luke about Herod's perplexity over Jesus' identity. Father spoke about how Herod was confused by the whispers, torn between stories of prophets rising and his own guilt for beheading John the Baptist. Father reminded us that like Herod, we can often be confused by the world’s noise, but Jesus stands calmly amid the chaos, always calling us to look beyond our doubts and fears and to trust in His truth. "Don’t listen to the rumors," he said, "but listen to your heart, where Christ speaks with clarity." It was a reminder that faith, not fear, should guide us.

The rest of the day was quiet at the cabin. The smoke from the fire had cleared, and, thankfully, there were no radio alarms or emergency broadcasts about it. Sister Mary Claire was quick to say, "No news is good news," which put our minds at ease.

In the afternoon, we settled in to do some catch-up reading. I spent time with the book Father LeRoy had loaned me, All for Jesus. Meanwhile, Sister began translating an old handwritten prayer book she had brought back from her time in Sisters College in Paris. I’m excited to include what she’s translated so far in the book Sister named Be Faithful.

As the day drew to a close, Mini curled up beside me, her little head resting on my lap. She looked so peaceful, and it made me reflect on the simple moments of joy that God blesses us with each day.

My evening prayer:

Thank You, Lord, for this day now done,
For the warmth of the rising sun.
For church bells ringing in the air,
And quiet times with friends in prayer.
For Mini's joy and gentle grace,
For Your love shining in every face.
Keep us safe through this quiet night,
And guide our steps in Your pure light.

All for Jesus, in Him we trust,
Our hearts in Your hands, forever just.

Goodnight, dear Lord, and bless Mini too.

Love,
Kathy

Smoky Skies

Septembrer 25, 1955

 

Dear Diary,
 

This morning, there's a heavy smoke in the air, and the flat alert on the radio said we should be ready to evacuate. My heart skips a beat at the thought, but I know we are in God's hands. The Gospel reading today spoke of Jesus sending out His disciples with nothing but trust in God's provision. I feel a bit like those disciples, unsure of what might happen next, but trusting God will guide us just as He guided them.

We are staying close to the radio, ready to move if we must, but for now, we remain still. Like the disciples shaking the dust off their feet when they leave a place, I am reminded that sometimes all we can do is prepare our hearts and wait in faith. No place is too far, no moment too small for Jesus to be with us, guiding us through the fields and smoke alike.

I find peace knowing that if we must go, He will guide our steps, just as He sent the Twelve out with nothing but His word.

All for Jesus, even in uncertain times.

Kathy

September 24, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, Mini and I set out for our early walk to Church, the sky still painted in soft hues of dawn. Mini was full of energy, wagging her little bottom as she trotted alongside me. When we arrived at Church, she was eager to greet everyone, her eyes bright and tail-less body wiggling with excitement. Each familiar face brought a smile to her, and it was so sweet to see how happy she made the parishioners. Some bent down to pat her head, while others just laughed at her enthusiasm. Mini truly has a way of spreading joy wherever she goes.

As usual, I handed out the Gospel readings. Today’s reading was from Luke 8:19-21, where Jesus told the crowd that His true family consists of those who hear the word of God and act on it. Father LeRoy’s homily expanded on this, reminding us that our family of faith is just as important as those related by blood. He also shared a quote from St. John Henry Newman: "God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next." His words made me think of my own mission, and how perhaps even small acts of kindness, like Mini’s cheerful greetings, are part of that purpose.

After Mass, Father LeRoy gave me a wonderful surprise! He told me to watch for the mailman this week—there’s an early birthday present coming my way for October 2nd! I can hardly contain my excitement. I wonder what it could be!

In the afternoon, Sister Mary Claire and I drove to Tom’s new cabin at Lake Okoboji. Tom had heard about some fires in the area and asked if we would drive to the lake and check things out. Judy packed us a picnic lunch, and she made Hayden and Caleb’s famous egg salad sandwiches from the Breakfast Club recipe. They were  just what we needed for the trip.

Here’s the recipe for those egg salad sandwiches:

6 boiled eggs, chopped finely
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 teaspoon mustard
1 tablespoon finely chopped celery
A dash of salt and pepper
A light sprinkle of paprika on top for extra flavor

Mix it all together and spread it over fresh bread. Simple, yet so tasty—especially when enjoyed outdoors by the lake!

The trip was perfect—just me, Sister Mary Claire, and Mini, enjoying the calm of the Lake and cabin. Everything is in good order, and we are staying overnight and my next diary entry will be from here, with Mini curled up beside me. 

Evening Prayer

Dear Lord,
Thank You for the joy that fills each day,
For Mini’s wagging welcome to every face we meet.
May her simple love remind me to spread kindness
In all that I do.
Watch over us as we rest tonight,
Let Your peace settle in our hearts,
And bless us with the strength to serve You always.
Amen.

Goodnight, dear diary.

Love,
Kathy

Waiting for the Freeze

 

September 22, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning's walk to church was a peaceful one, with the drying corn rustling in the breeze, nearly ready for harvest. The stalks stand tall, waiting for that hard frost to signal the final stages of ripening. All the farmers at church were murmuring their predictions about when the freeze would come. Some said soon, others hoped for just a bit more time. It's funny how the weather always seems to have the last word, but everyone has an opinion.

At Mass, the Gospel reading from Luke 8:16-18 struck a chord with me. Father LeRoy spoke about not hiding our light. He said:

"No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel or sets it under a bed; rather, he places it on a lampstand so that those who enter may see the light."

Father emphasized how each of us is called to let our light shine, not just for our own sake but for others, to be a beacon. He reminded us that even the smallest flicker of faith can light the way for someone else. And then, as he often does, he ended with a beautiful quote from Father Frederick William Faber:

"Kindness has converted more sinners than zeal, eloquence, or learning."

It made me think of how kindness can be that light we're meant to share with the world.

The afternoon was spent in a simpler way, helping Tom attach the corn picker to his tractor. I wasn’t much help beyond handing him the tools as he worked underneath, but I was glad to be there. Mini, of course, was her usual playful self. I had to laugh when she rolled her ball toward Tom while he was under the tractor, hoping he’d grab it at the right moment. She’s just too cute for her own good!

Evening settled in peacefully, with Mini curled up at my feet as I sat in the prayer wagon. It was a day full of simple joys, faith, and community.

Father, for today I thank You,
For every task my hands could do,
For the farmers' wisdom shared so kind,
For the Gospel that filled my mind.

For Tom and the tractor, the tools and the work,
And Mini's ball and her playful quirk.
For the corn that waits for frost’s embrace,
And the light we share in every place.

Guide us through the coming days,
Keep our hearts and steps in Your ways.
Let kindness be the light I give,
In Your love and grace, help me live.

Amen.

Sunday Sermon

The Sunday Sermon

Click on Kathy's  Radio to Listen Now.

September 22, 1955

 
Dear Diary,


This morning started off quietly as Sister Mary Claire went ahead to St. Mary's to help Father LeRoy prepare for Mass. I decided to ride my bicycle, with Mini riding comfortably in the basket at the back and my Crucifix nestled in the front. The sky was clear, and the air fresh. As we set out, I slipped my transistor radio into my back pocket—just in time to catch Bishop Barron beginning his Sunday homily. His voice would keep me company as we made our way through the shortcut, cutting right through the cornfield. I always like that path; it feels secret and peaceful, like God’s little hidden passageway.

By the time we arrived at St. Mary’s, the church bells were already ringing. Father's homily today was particularly moving. He preached from the Gospel according to Mark 9:30-37, where Jesus reminds His disciples that “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Father spoke about humility, how Jesus took a little child and placed him in the midst of the disciples, telling them that welcoming a child in His name is welcoming Christ Himself.

He then shared a quote from Father Faber, one of his favorite saints: "Kindness has converted more sinners than zeal, eloquence, or learning." Father's voice softened when he said this, and I could tell he was deep into his copy of All For Jesus again. He reminded us how Father Faber taught that true service is marked by gentleness and humility, and how these simple acts can draw us closer to the heart of Jesus.

After Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I stayed a little while longer to pray quietly. Mini waited patiently by my side, her little tail-less bottom wagging whenever someone passed by. Eventually, we made our way home, the afternoon light casting a golden hue over the cornfields.

As the evening drew in, Sister and I spent time in the prayer wagon. We had a sweet embrace, feeling the peace of the day settle into our hearts. Mini curled up at my feet, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep gratitude for this sanctuary.

Before bed, I wrote this prayer to end the day:

O Sacred Heart, so full of grace,
In every child, I see Your face.
May kindness be the path I tread,
And love the light that guides ahead.
For last is first in Your pure eyes,
Teach me to serve and not to rise.
Grant me the grace to walk with You,
In simple acts, in all I do. Amen.


With that, I say goodnight. I feel the arms of heaven around me as I drift into sleep, comforted by the love that fills this little sanctuary.

With love,
Kathy

Pa's Passion

September 21, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, I pedaled my bike to Church, braving the brisk wind that nipped at our cheeks. The chilly air reminded me that autumn is fast approaching, though I couldn't help but feel alive in it, like the wind itself was urging us onward. I repeated my usual prayer: "O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, May I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod!" It seemed fitting for a day like today. Mini stayed behind, warm and snug in the prayer wagon, and I think she was grateful not to face the cold.

Father Leroy's homily today was centered around the Gospel reading from Matthew 9:9-13, where Jesus calls Matthew the tax collector to follow Him, despite Matthew being seen as a sinner. Father reminded us how Jesus said, "I desire mercy, not sacrifice. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." He then quoted Frederick Faber, whose words struck me deeply: "There is no greater mistake in the spiritual life than to neglect what we can do because we cannot do everything." Father LeRoy explained how mercy and small acts of kindness, no matter how humble, can bring us closer to God. I couldn't help but think of the little things—feeding the chickens or offering a kind word—and how they, too, are steps in the path of love.

After Mass, I made a quick stop at the Breakfast Club to deliver the big brown eggs. A few of those eggs were special, laid by my dear brown hen. Caleb was there to greet me, grateful as ever for the delivery, and I was happy knowing that soon the farmers would be enjoying those hearty eggs.

Later in the day, Sister Mary Claire and I made our way to the Catholic Thrift Store in Des Moines. I had a burst of excitement as we entered, hopeful to find another book by Frederick Faber. His writings have been such a blessing to me, and I hoped today would bring a new discovery. Though I didn't find a Faber book, I did stumble upon an old prayer book with beautifully worn pages. I felt it was a little treasure waiting for someone to hold it in prayer once again.

The day ended as it always does, in peaceful reflection. The wind has settled now, and the prayer wagon is warm and still. As I kneel beside my bed, I offer this little prayer:

"Dear Lord,

Thank you for the gift of this day,
For the wind that urged me forward,
For the Gospel that softened my heart.
Let me carry the mercy You ask of us,
In each small act,
As I follow in Your way.
Good night, Mini, sleep tight,
Good night, dear Lord, good night."

Good night, Mini, and good night to all.

With love,
Kathy

Tom's Sign

 
September 20, 1955

 

Dear Diary,

This morning, the air was cool and damp as we set out on our usual walk to St. Mary's. The gravel underfoot was slick from the night’s dew, and I couldn’t help but breathe deeply of the fresh, early morning air. Mini trotted ahead, her little bottom wagging in excitement, but Sister Mary Claire and I took our time, soaking in the peacefulness of the quiet countryside. As we passed by the end of the driveway, we stopped to admire the sign Tom had made for me: All For Jesus. I have been raving about William Frederick Faber’s book with the same title, studying it closely these last few days, and Tom must have picked up on it, crafting the sign with care. It seemed fitting that this reminder of devotion should stand so proudly at the entrance to our driveway, a simple, rustic testament to a lives dedicated to faith.

I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey of Faber himself—how he converted to the Catholic faith shortly after John Henry Newman. His writings have been a balm to my soul, filled with such warmth and wisdom. Father Faber’s conversion was no small event, and reading about his life has inspired me deeply. Today, Father LeRoy even spoke of him in his homily, basing his message on the gospel reading from Luke 8:1-3. The reading spoke of Jesus traveling from village to village, proclaiming the good news of the Kingdom of God, accompanied by the Twelve and many women who had been healed by His power. Father reminded us of the important role these women played in supporting Jesus’ ministry—how their faith and resources sustained Him. He mentioned that a drive past Camp Littlemore would be worth everyone’s time, not just for the beauty of the landscape but also to see the new sign that Tom created. Father always manages to weave together the scripture with our everyday lives so seamlessly.

After Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I took a leisurely walk back home, with Mini faithfully at our heels. I spent the afternoon with my hens, gathering eggs for the Breakfast Club as usual. The sun was gentle, and I found a sense of peace in the simplicity of my chores.

As the evening came, Sister Mary Claire and I knelt together with Mini curled up beside us, and we offered up our prayers. I found myself thinking again of Father Faber, not just as a writer but as a poet and songwriter. I couldn’t help but hum a few lines from one of his hymns, Faith of Our Fathers. His words echo my own desires, to remain faithful and steadfast in the Lord, no matter the trials we face.

Our prayer ended with this reflection:

In quiet fields where flowers bloom,
And evening stars give light to gloom,
May faith like Faber’s fill our days,
And guide our hearts in endless praise.

Mini sighed contentedly at my side, and I knew we were blessed, truly, to walk in this faith, together.

Goodnight, dear friend.

In Christ,
Kathy

Can't Wait Till Evening

 

September 19, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning felt like a blessing from the very start. The September air was crisp as we walked down the gravel road to church. The trees are starting to turn golden, and the leaves crunched under my shoes with every step. I couldn't help but take in the beauty of God's creation all around me. With my Irish Prayer book in hand, I whispered my prayer as I always do: "O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, May I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod!" Sister Mary Claire walked beside me, and we shared a peaceful silence as we made our way.

Mini was so eager to greet everyone at church today! Her little bottom wagged just as fast as ever as the parishioners arrived, and a few stopped to give her pets and smiles. She's such a joyful little greeter, and everyone seems to love her as much as I do.

Father LeRoy gave such a touching homily today. The Gospel reading was from Luke 7:36-50, about the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and anointed them with ointment. I’ve always loved this story, but Father Leroy’s words really struck my heart this morning. He explained how this woman, despite being looked down upon by the Pharisees, showed immense love and repentance for her sins. Jesus, seeing her true heart, forgave her completely. Father Leroy said, “The more we realize the depth of our sins and receive God’s forgiveness, the greater our capacity to love. We mustn’t judge others as the Pharisees did, but rather offer mercy, just as Jesus does for us.”

His words left me thinking deeply about the people in my life, and how I want to be more like Jesus — forgiving, loving, and seeing the goodness in others, no matter their past.

After Mass, I was excited to continue reading ALL for Jesus. I’m only a couple of pages in, but I can’t wait to read Page 3 aloud to Sister Mary Claire tonight. I think she’ll appreciate the beauty of it as much as I do.

As the evening settles in, I’m cozy here in the prayer wagon with Mini fast asleep beneath the bed. The day feels complete, wrapped in peace and gratitude.

Dear Jesus, my Savior and Friend,
Thank You for Your mercy without end.
Help me to love and forgive like You,
To see others’ hearts and show kindness, too.
Bless my family, and watch over Mini,
As we rest beneath Your holy canopy.
Guide us through the night until the dawn,
In Your love, we safely belong.

Amen.

Good night, dear Diary.

Kathy

 

The Wood of The Cross

 

September 18, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today felt like a little adventure with a bit of mystery sprinkled in. I rode my bicycle to St. Mary’s, and Mini, of course, came along in the basket, her ears flapping in the breeze, looking proud as ever. The American flag was tied to my bike, waving as we pedaled down the gravel road. In the basket next to Mini was something very special — a Crucifix I found at the Catholic Thrift store in Sioux City.

The Crucifix is beautiful and old, with a delicate ceramic figure of Jesus on an even older wooden cross. I couldn’t help but wonder about that wood — how old it must be, and where the tree that it was made from grew. What stories might it have witnessed before it was cut and shaped into a cross? Was it from a forest long forgotten, or perhaps a tree that sprouted in a time we can only imagine? I thought about the years it must have lived, its branches reaching for the sky, only to one day become part of this holy object that was carried along in my bicycle  basket protected by Mini's soft fur coat. It was like a piece of history, full of mystery and reverence.

When I arrived at St. Mary’s, I was excited to show Father LeRoy the Crucifix. He took it into his hands carefully, as if it were something very sacred. He studied it for a moment, turning it over and running his fingers along the smooth ceramic and the worn wood. “Kathy,” he said softly, “this is no ordinary Crucifix. The craftsmanship is remarkable. The wood, so old, and the ceramic figure of Jesus... I wonder where it’s been hiding all these years. Perhaps it was tucked away in an attic or forgotten in a quiet church for decades.” His words made me think even more about the journey this Crucifix had taken, and how it somehow found its way to me.

Then, during Mass, Father mentioned the Crucifix in his homily. Today’s Gospel from Luke 7:31-35 spoke of how the people of Jesus’ time were never satisfied, no matter what was done for them. They criticized John the Baptist for fasting and living simply, and they criticized Jesus for eating and drinking with sinners. Father used the Crucifix as an example, saying, “Just like this Crucifix, hidden and forgotten for years, so too do we sometimes forget the beauty and grace in front of us. We criticize, we doubt, we fail to see. But wisdom is vindicated by her children. We must open our hearts to recognize the love of God in all things, just as this Crucifix has been rediscovered and brought back to its rightful place.”

After the homily, Father passed the Crucifix around for everyone to touch. He said, “Let us all place our hands upon this sacred symbol and make Jesus happy with our reverence and love.” Each person held it with care, and I could see the deep respect they had for it. It felt like we were all sharing in something much bigger than ourselves.

After Mass, Sister Mary Claire and I spent the rest of the day cleaning the prayer wagon. We swept the floors, dusted the shelves, and made the space feel fresh again. Later, we went to the chicken house to add fresh straw to the nests. The hens seemed quite content, especially my brown hen, who gave me her usual special look. I think she appreciates the extra attention.

As the evening settles in, and Mini is already curled up under the bed, I reflect on the day. It was full of wonder and grace, and I feel so grateful for the little moments that make life feel so full.

Evening Prayer:

"Dear Lord, thank You for the beauty and mystery of today. For the joy of sharing the Crucifix, for the love and reverence we showed in Your presence, and for the wisdom You continue to reveal to us. Guide my heart to always see Your hand at work, even in the smallest of things. Bless our home, our animals, and all who touched the Crucifix today. Protect us through the night, and fill our hearts with Your peace as we rest. May we always be a reflection of Your love and light. Amen."

Goodnight, dear Diary.

Love,
Kathy

 

Judy's Pheasant Sandwiches

September 17, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, I woke to a crisp, chilly breeze that signaled the start of the autumn season. Sister Mary Claire and I layered up a bit for our walk down the gravel road to St. Mary’s, with Mini happily trotting alongside us, wagging her little bottom as she darted ahead. When we arrived, I handed out today’s Gospel reading, taken from Luke 7:11-17, while Mini greeted the parishioners, bringing smiles to their faces as always.

Father Leroy’s homily was particularly moving today. He spoke about the moment Jesus resurrected the widow’s only son, emphasizing how Christ’s compassion didn’t just bring life back to the young man but restored hope to the grieving mother. "When we show compassion to others," Father Leroy said, "we’re participating in that same life-giving work of Christ. We may not be able to perform miracles, but we can bring hope and healing through small acts of kindness and love. Just as Jesus said, 'Do not weep,' we too can be a source of comfort to those around us."

I reflected on how true that is—sometimes it’s the little things that breathe new life into someone's day.

After Mass, Judy invited Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and me up to the high house for lunch, and what a delightful time it was! Tom had gone out hunting, and we enjoyed pheasant sandwiches made from his successful outing. Judy laughed as she shared a funny story about her teenage years when she and her mother used to help prepare similar sandwiches for the soldiers passing through Pierre, South Dakota, during World War II.

She said the soldiers, always full of youthful energy and mischief, would tease her as they stood in line, hungry for a good meal. “They’d ask me with big grins on their faces, ‘Did you shoot this pheasant yourself, miss?’” Judy recalled, giggling. “I’d laugh and tell them, ‘Of course! I’ve got the best aim in the county!’ They never believed me, of course, but they sure loved the sandwiches!”

She remembered those moments fondly—how the soldiers, on their way to face unimaginable danger, still found time to joke with a small-town girl handing out sandwiches at the train depot. “Those boys had a spirit that lifted everyone’s hearts,” she said, “and I’ll never forget their smiles.”

Judy shared the depot recipe for Pheasant Sandwiches, the same one she used all those years ago:

Judy's Pheasant Sandwich

2 cooked pheasant breasts, finely shredded
½ cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 tablespoon finely chopped green onions
Salt and pepper to taste
Rye or whole grain bread, toasted
Lettuce and tomato for serving

Mix the shredded pheasant with mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, thyme, green onions, salt, and pepper. Spread the mixture generously on the toasted bread, top with lettuce and tomato, and serve. They’re delicious and comforting, just like Judy remembered them.

As the afternoon faded into evening, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to the prayer wagon, where Mini nestled in at my feet. The day had been full of laughter, memories, and stories that made me grateful for the people in my life. Before drifting off, I said a special prayer for those brave soldiers who boarded the trains all those years ago, many of whom never returned home.

Evening Prayer:

Dear Lord, thank You for the gift of this day, for the warmth of Judy’s friendship, and the joy of remembering those who sacrificed so much for us. I lift up in prayer all the soldiers who journeyed across the sea during the war—those who came home and those who did not. May they rest in Your eternal peace, knowing their bravery and service will never be forgotten. Amen.

Until tomorrow, dear diary.

Love,
Kathy

Wandering Mind

 

September 16, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today, Father Leroy’s homily was based on a beautiful passage from the Gospel of Luke, chapter 7, verses 1-10, about the faith of the centurion. Father spoke about how the centurion's humility and unwavering trust in Jesus allowed his servant to be healed, even though he felt unworthy to have Jesus come under his roof. The words "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof" rang in my heart. Father Leroy said we should strive to have that same faith—humble, trusting, and unwavering.

But what truly set my mind soaring was when Father quoted from All for Jesus by Father Faber. He said, "True devotion is to give all to Jesus, and to desire nothing for ourselves but to please Him." Oh, how that simple line stirred my soul! I could feel my heart longing for such pure devotion. Imagine giving everything over to Him—how freeing it would be to have no desire other than to please Him!

After Mass, Father Leroy kindly lent me his copy of All for Jesus, and I spent the evening quietly reading the first page. Father Faber’s words leapt off the page with such depth and grace, I felt like I was drinking in the wisdom of the saints. He spoke about the love we should have for Jesus and the joy that comes from living entirely for Him.

Tonight, as I drift off, I ask for the faith of the centurion and the devotion Father Faber speaks of. Jesus, help me give all for You, and may I be satisfied with nothing but Your grace.

With love in Christ, Kathy

Sunday Sermon

September 15, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning began beautifully, as always, with the warmth of our little church. Mini was in high spirits, her tail-less bottom wiggling joyfully as she greeted each parishioner. She stayed close by my side as I handed out the Gospel readings, her excitement filling the space with a special kind of light. It felt as though she was helping me welcome everyone into our shared sanctuary.

Father LeRoy’s homily today was based on the Gospel according to Mark 8:27-35. He spoke of Jesus asking His disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” and how Peter boldly declared Him the Messiah. Father’s words struck me when he reminded us that following Christ is a path not of earthly glory but of sacrifice. "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul?" It made me reflect on the simplicity of life here and how grateful I am to walk this humble road with Him.

As the evening settled, Sister Mary Claire and I retreated to the prayer wagon. The soft, cool breeze drifted through the window, bringing with it a calm that wrapped around us like a blanket. Mini, now tired from her busy day, curled up beside me, resting her head on my lap. I could feel her gentle breathing as she drifted off into sleep.

I listened to Bishop Robert Barron’s Sunday sermon, reflecting again on the same Gospel reading. His words echoed Father’s earlier message—that through sacrifice and self-denial, we come closer to God. His voice blended with the quiet sounds of the night, and beside me, Sister Mary Claire’s soft, steady breaths told me she was already sound asleep.

Before closing my eyes, I whispered a quiet prayer to myself: "Lord, grant us the strength to carry our crosses as You carried Yours, and help us follow Your path of love and grace. Amen." With Mini resting in my lap, the peaceful night surrounding us, I felt a deep sense of gratitude.

With love,
Kathy

Top Meadow

September 14, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today, I thought deeply about the preciousness of life, even from the very beginning. Father LeRoy mentioned something during his homily that reminded me of the words of G.K. Chesterton—how each soul, even the smallest, is a unique reflection of God's love. Every moment of life, from conception onward, holds infinite value.

As I fed my brown hen and gathered the eggs for the Breakfast Club, I found myself in quiet reflection. Each egg, small and fragile, is filled with potential, just like us. The tiny lives around me remind me of the wonder God places in all His creations.

Mini was by my side again, watching with her gentle eyes, and it brought me peace to know that she, too, is a gift of God’s creation. In moments like these, I am filled with gratitude for the blessings of life, family, and faith. Sister Mary Claire braided my hair again this evening, and as she worked, she softly sang a hymn to Mary. It was so soothing that I felt the love and care she put into each braid—just like God’s love that wraps us all in His protection.

I pray that I will always remember the value of life, both in myself and in others, and dedicate each day to living "All for Jesus."

O Mary of Grace, Mother of God, watch over me and guide me as I walk the paths of righteousness.

Love, Kathy

Campaign for Jesus

September 13, 1955

Dear Diary,

Today began as most days do, with Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I walking the familiar gravel road to St. Mary's. The morning air was cool and fresh, the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes accompanying our soft prayers. I repeated the one I love from my Irish prayer book: "O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, May I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod!" Sister Mary Claire walked beside me, quiet in her thoughts, while Mini happily trotted at our feet, her little bottom wagging with each step.

At the church doors, I stood next to Sister Mary Claire, both of us handing out the Gospel readings. Mini stayed close, greeting the arriving parishioners with her bright eyes and cheerful spirit. I watched people smile as they saw her, feeling a warmth spread in my heart. I know she has that effect on people.

Father Leroy's homily touched on Luke 6:39-42, speaking about how we must remove the plank from our own eyes before helping our brothers. He tied it in with all the political ads for the upcoming presidential election, saying that no candidate could save us, only Jesus could. "If we are going to campaign for anyone," he said, "let it be for Jesus."

Well, that sent my mind soaring! I imagined myself on a solo campaign, just me, carrying banners that said "All for Jesus!" I'd visit every town, every city, telling people how only Jesus could guide us. I pictured myself on a grand platform, speaking into a microphone, the crowd cheering for the message of love, hope, and salvation. My heart raced as I daydreamed, imagining that maybe, just maybe, I could make a difference if I campaigned for Jesus as earnestly as those politicians do.

After Mass, I had to bring myself back to reality, though it wasn't easy! As we walked home, I told Sister Mary Claire about my little daydream, and she laughed softly, reminding me that every little action we take for Jesus is already a part of His campaign.

Back in the prayer wagon, the day ended peacefully. Sister Mary Claire joined me for our evening prayers while Mini curled up at my feet, her soft snores filling the cozy space. I had already put Omelette to bed earlier, placing her onto her little roost beside her nest.

As the stars began to dot the sky, I closed my eyes, feeling content. Campaigning for Jesus may be a dream, but I can do my part every day, right here.

With love and peace, Kathy

Loving Our Enemies

Dear Diary,

This morning's walk to church felt different, the air crisp and almost cold as autumn began to creep in. I wrapped my shawl tighter around my shoulders, and Mini trotted along beside us, her little paws making soft sounds on the gravel road. Sister Mary Claire and I smiled at each other, both grateful for the coolness after the long summer days. Mini seemed especially eager today, as if the weather brought out her extra energy. When we arrived at St. Mary's, she greeted the parishioners again with her friendly wagging, standing by our side as we passed out the Gospel reading for the day.

Father Leroy’s homily was based on the Gospel according to Luke 6:27-38. He spoke about loving our enemies and doing good to those who hate us, just as Jesus taught. "Give to everyone who asks you," he said, "and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back." His words felt both comforting and challenging, but they lingered in my heart as I thought about how I could show more kindness in small ways.

In the afternoon, I retreated to the cave for some quiet time. The wind had picked up, making me all the more thankful for John Hathaway’s little cast iron stove, now snugly fitted with the rock chimney. He brought it from the East in his covered wagon, and now it warmed me as I curled up near it, listening to the comforting crackle of the fire. The cave felt like a haven today, a place to think and reflect on Father Leroy’s homily.

As evening settled in, Mini and the brown hen made it clear it was time for their supper. Mini nudged my leg with her nose, and the hen let out soft clucks, wandering near the entrance. I couldn’t ignore them any longer, so I got up to feed them. The quiet moments of the day had made everything feel more peaceful.

Before I close, I offer this evening prayer:

"O God, You who see all things, help me to love as You have asked, even when it is hard. Guide my heart in kindness and patience, as I follow the path You have set before me. Amen."

Until tomorrow,
Kathy

Our Reward is in Heaven

Dear Diary,

This morning's walk to Church was a bit brisk, as the chill of September was certainly in the air. Sister Mary Claire walked beside me, bundled in her warm habit, while Mini trotted along, her little legs working quickly to keep up. She had her nose to the ground, hoping to catch the scent of her rabbit friend, Jack. Poor Mini searched all along the way, but no sign of Jack today. Maybe tomorrow she'll have better luck.

When we arrived at the Church, we took our usual place by the doors to greet the parishioners. Mini, of course, was quite the helper, and she was so proud as she sat by our side, greeting everyone with her wagging bottom and handing out the gospel reading with us. Today's Gospel, from Luke 6:20-26, was a powerful reminder of blessings and challenges. Father LeRoy's homily touched on how the blessings Jesus spoke of are for those who often feel forgotten by the world—the poor, the hungry, and those who weep. He said that Jesus' words teach us to find joy even in hardship because our reward isn't found in this world but in heaven. He encouraged us to be mindful of the "woes" as well, reminding us not to become too attached to comfort and praise in this life.

After Mass, Tom and Judy invited Sister and me over to the big house for a delicious breakfast of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. It was quite the feast! The pancakes were fluffy, and the bacon was perfectly crispy. Mini even got a little bacon snack, and let me tell you, that made her morning. I don't think I’ve ever seen her so excited over a treat. I, on the other hand, became a bit sleepy after such a hearty meal.

Tom asked if we’d like to ride along with him to Des Moines to pick up a part for his little Ford tractor. It was nice of him to take us along in his pickup. The drive was peaceful, and the time passed quickly as we chatted about the upcoming harvest and the changes in the weather. Des Moines seemed busy, but the errand was simple, and we were back on the farm before evening.

As the day came to a close, Sister Mary Claire and I returned to the prayer wagon. The cool night air outside contrasted with the warmth inside, and it felt so comforting to settle in for the night. Mini curled up beside us, happy and content after her adventure-filled day.

Before sleep, we said our evening prayer together:

"O Lord, thank you for the blessings of this day—for the warmth of fellowship, the beauty of your Word, and the care you show to us through the kindness of friends. May we always trust in your promise, and remember that the rewards of heaven far surpass the trials of this life. Keep us safe through the night, and guide our hearts to follow in your paths of grace. In your name, we pray. Amen."

Now it’s time to rest. Tomorrow is another day in your care.

Goodnight, dear diary.

—Kathy

Colors of Fall

September 10, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning’s walk to church felt like a soft whisper from the earth, reminding me that fall has arrived. The air had a crispness to it, just enough to tug at my sleeves and make me wish I’d brought a sweater. As Sister Mary Claire and I walked, I couldn’t help but notice the soybeans losing their leaves, the fields turning a golden hue. The corn, tall and proud through the summer, is beginning to dry up, its once vibrant green stalks now fading into shades of pale yellow and brown. There’s something solemn in their maturity, like they’re making peace with the coming harvest.

At church, we handed out the Gospel readings, just like always, and, as expected, Mini was at her finest, greeting everyone who passed through the doors. She’s become quite the sensation, our little Corgi. It’s funny how Mini, without saying a word, can bring such warmth and joy to the people around her. Her little bottom wagged eagerly as she approached each person, her eyes bright and welcoming. Even Father LeRoy couldn’t resist giving her an affectionate pat on the head before he walked to the altar.

Father's homily today was a reflection on the Gospel reading from Matthew 18:21-22, where Peter asked Jesus, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?" And Jesus answered, "I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times." Father spoke with a gentle but firm tone, reminding us that forgiveness is not something to be measured or counted but freely given, again and again. He said, "We all hold onto things we shouldn’t sometimes, but never let the sun set on a grudge. Life is too short to carry the weight of hurt for too long. Forgive those who have wronged you, even when it feels hard—especially then. Our Lord forgives us endlessly, and we are called to do the same."

The day passed quickly, and by  evening, Sister Mary Claire and I found ourselves sitting in the prayer wagon, the soft glow of the lantern casting warm shadows on the walls. We wrote down a little prayer together, something simple yet heartfelt:

"Dear Lord, grant us the grace to forgive as You forgive. Soften our hearts toward those who have wronged us, and help us to release the burdens we carry. May we find peace in Your mercy and be a light of that mercy to others. In Your name, we pray. Amen."

As the evening rushed in, I felt a deep sense of gratitude, for the day, for Sister Mary Claire’s quiet companionship, for Mini’s playful presence, and for Father's wise words. It’s in these small moments that I feel closest to God—when the world slows down just enough for me to see His hand in everything.

"Let love and forgiveness guide our hearts, so we may walk in peace, each step a reflection of His grace."

With love,
Kathy

 

 

Under the Bed

September 9, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning, getting Mini ready for our walk to Church was a bit of an adventure. Lately, she’s taken to sleeping under the bed, like it’s her own little John Hathaway cave, where no one can bother her once she drifts off. It’s her quiet spot, and I imagine it must feel cozy and safe. When I tried calling her to get up, she didn’t even budge. But as always, I knew just what would work: one squeak of her ball, and out she came, full of energy! It's like she’s saying, “No energy for anything else, but for the ball? Give me more!” She raced after it, tail-less bottom wagging as if she’d been up all day. It made me laugh—Mini always knows how to surprise me.

The walk to Church was lovely, with the sun peeking through the clouds and the fresh scent of the fields around us. Sister Mary Claire and I walked side by side, while Mini trotted ahead, her ball in her mouth like a prized possession. When we arrived, we greeted the parishioners warmly, Mini happily nuzzling those who stopped to say hello. I handed out the Gospel readings as usual, feeling that familiar joy of seeing everyone come together for Mass.

Father Leroy’s homily today focused on the Gospel from Luke 6:6-11. He talked about how Jesus healed the man with the withered hand on the Sabbath and how the Pharisees were more concerned with the rules than with the miracle of healing. Father reminded us that mercy and doing good should always come first, no matter the situation. It was such a beautiful message and one I want to carry with me throughout the week.

After Church, we returned to our Monday routine. I delivered eggs to the Breakfast Club, and I couldn’t help but smile, knowing the customers were enjoying the big brown eggs from our hens. With the price of laying mash going up, I may have to raise the egg prices again, but I’m sure the four cousins won’t mind.

In the afternoon, Sister suggested a trip to the Dove Thrift store in Des Moines. While she browsed around for treasures, I hung out in the book nook, my favorite little corner. I always love the musty scent of old books, imagining all the hands that have held them before mine.

Tonight, Mini has tucked herself under the bed again, her little cave where she feels safe. I’m sure she’ll only come out when I squeak her ball—it’s the only way to lure her from her peaceful hideaway.

Dear Lord, thank You for the gift of this day, for the peace of our walk to Church, and for the comforting message Father Leroy shared with us. Help me remember to always choose kindness and mercy in my actions. Watch over Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and all those I care about. Grant us rest and refresh our hearts for tomorrow. Amen.

Goodnight, Diary. Until tomorrow.

Love,
Kathy

Mary's Birthday

October 8, 1955

Dear Diary,

This morning’s walk to Church was peaceful as always, with Mini happily trotting by my side, her bottom wiggling with excitement. Sister Mary Claire walked ahead, her habit swaying in the morning breeze, while I carried the Gospel readings in hand. When we arrived, Mini was all business, eager to greet everyone with her signature paw shakes. She managed to charm quite a few parishioners, bringing smiles to all who bent down to meet her.

Father LeRoy read from the Gospel of Mark 7:31-37, a passage that speaks so profoundly of healing and miracles. “Ephphatha!”—“Be opened”—with that single word, Jesus restored hearing and speech to a man burdened by both deafness and muteness. It was a moment of awe, reminding us of Christ's tender love and power. But today, Father Leroy dedicated his homily to something even more personal and beautiful: the birthday of Our Blessed Mother.

He reminded us that today is exactly nine months after the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, the day we celebrate Mary being conceived without sin in St. Anne’s womb. What a joy it is to know that her life began in purity, setting her apart as the perfect vessel for God’s will. Father's words made me feel close to her, reminding us all to call on her intercession, just as she cared for Jesus with such devotion.

Later in the afternoon, I packed a small lunch and headed to the cave for some quiet time. There’s something so peaceful about being in that sanctuary, knowing that John Hathaway once found solace there too. His memories and my own seem to intertwine in the stillness, and I know he would be pleased to see his space used with such care and reflection. It’s become a place where I can think, pray, and feel truly connected to both the past and the present.

As the day drew to a close, Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and I retreated to the prayer wagon for our evening prayers. We spoke softly, thanking God for His presence in our lives. The radio hummed in the background, and as we began to doze off, Bishop Barron’s voice came through, delivering a homily on the Gospel reading from earlier today. He spoke about how Jesus not only restored the man's hearing but gave him the ability to speak freely and clearly, emphasizing that Christ’s miracles are signs of His power to transform every aspect of our lives.

Listening to Bishop Barron, I felt the message settle deep within me: Christ longs to open our ears and hearts, to free us from whatever holds us back. As we drifted into sleep, his words lingered, reminding me that with God’s grace, all things are possible, and every day we have the chance to be opened anew.

O Mary of Grace and Mother of God, may I tread in the paths that the righteous have trod. 

Happy Birthday dear Mother Mary.  I love you so so much.

Amen.

Love,
Kathy

My Brown Hen

Dear Diary,

This morning's early walk to church was wrapped in the gentle hush of dawn, with Sister Mary Claire, Mini, and me taking in the serene quietude. My brown hen seemed eager to join our little procession but I encouraged her to stay back, reminding her of the nest eggs waiting to be tended.

Father Leroy's homily today brought to life the Gospel reading from Luke 6:1-5, where Jesus addresses the Pharisees’ strict interpretations of the Sabbath laws. He shared a poignant story of an old farmer named Mr. Jennings, who once during a severe drought, chose to irrigate his fields on a Sunday to save his failing crops. This decision faced criticism from some in the community who held strict views on Sabbath observance. Yet, Mr. Jennings’ actions preserved the harvest that fed many families throughout that difficult year. Father Leroy used this story to illustrate the importance of compassion and understanding in applying the teachings of Jesus, emphasizing that the spirit of the law should lead us to acts of kindness and necessity.

Upon returning home, inspired by the homily, Sister and I prepared a breakfast of scrambled eggs enriched with sautéed onions and a tiny dash of heavy whipping cream, lovingly ladled onto toasted slices of homemade bread—a simple yet fulfilling meal that echoed the morning's message of sustenance and care.

Heavenly Father, thank You for the wisdom imparted through today's Gospel, teaching us that Your laws guide us to act with love and mercy. Help us to discern when to uphold tradition and when to embrace the needs of the present. May our actions reflect Your compassion, and may we rest tonight in peace, ready to continue Your work tomorrow. Amen.

Good Night:

As I close today's entry, I am thankful for the lessons learned and the peace found in following Your ways. Good night, dear diary, until we meet again in the morning light.

Sweet Dreams, Kathy