Feather From Heaven

June 27, 1956

Dear Diary,

Something beautiful happened on my way back from the grotto this morning. Mini and I were walking through the dappled light when a feather—long and soft like it belonged to an owl—came spinning down through the air. But it wasn’t just falling. It was twirling, like it had been caught in a silent song. The edges of it were blurred, not in a fuzzy way but like it was moving too gracefully for my eyes to keep up.

It swirled in slow loops, turning this way and that, as if it were being carried by something gentle and unseen. Mini didn’t bark. She just watched, ears perked, like she knew it was something special. And I did too.

The feather finally came to rest right near my shoe, soft as breath. I picked it up, and right then I remembered the letter Sister Mary Claire had left for me on my little desk. The red sticker seal said, “From His Heart to Mine.”

Her letter made me feel safe and loved—like Jesus Himself was drawing me close. She wrote, “He sends you reminders of His nearness, even when the wind carries them in silence.” I could hardly believe it—because that’s exactly what the feather felt like. A reminder from Heaven. A little swirl of love that found its way to me.

I slipped the feather inside her letter and pressed the page closed so it stays right where it belongs.

Love,

Kathy

P.S. I think even if someone else found that feather, they might not see the twirl. But I did.