Holiness comes wrapped in the ordinary
There are burning bushes all around you.
Every tree is full of angels.
Hidden beauty is waiting in every crumb.
Macrina Weiderkehr
There's a blue hallway leading out from Sophie's room, and right to the left is a framed poster. It's been there for years, but this morning as I led Sophie out to take her to school, she stopped and turned toward the poster. What? I asked Sophie, are you reading that? She literally cocked her head and stared at it for a few moments, and I read aloud, Everything is going to be ok. She turned her head back and faced forward and took a few steps, then did the same thing, first looking at the vines on the wall and then ahead at the books on the shelf. My father sent me a check a very long time ago, helping us to fund some sort of treatment or therapy for Sophie, so long ago that the tiny piece of paper that was clipped to the check is nearly indecipherable and curling at the edges. I've kept that piece of paper in my purse along with several other slips of paper and mementoes. Everything is going to be ok, it says in my father's dense yet elegant script. It's ok, it's ok, we've whispered to Sophie over and over as she's seized, over and over and over. It's ok. Everything is going to be ok.
