Her mother's daughter

Sometimes the expression, "you're just like your mother" can be used as less than a compliment, but when I tell you about my mother's day gift, I mean it as high praise.

Growing up we used to make spiritual bouquets for the sick, or for someone like the bishop (what else could we possibly give him?). We adopted this custom when funds were low in our home, which seems to be the case in many homes.

So this morning, as I sat in my easy chair waiting for my morning coffee to energize my tired body, Gabbi came up to me with a small gift bag. On her class trip to Boston, she bought me a hyacinth votive candle with her spending money and wrote out this card with a spiritual bouquet.

I was thrilled, never have I needed one more. Right now, I am trying to make enough money to justify calling myself a full time Catholic writer, beginning by sending my book manuscript off to a Catholic publisher (please join me in prayer for it to be accepted). I know God is calling me to this vocation, yet I am struggling to trust Him to meet my family's financial needs while I give my talents to His service to spead the Gospel of Life.

We spent the morning at Mass, enjoying the lovely innocence of the First Communion children who were receiving their scapulars, and followed this with brunch in a country inn.