It was hard. Really hard. Getting up. I felt like everything hurt, and I was so exhausted that I just couldn’t get out of bed. Somehow, I managed to do it. I almost believe that all of heaven, with every angel and saint, had to help push me out of bed. My eyes fell on the Crucifix, and I gave HIM my day and my love—that gave me enough strength.
After breakfast, though, I lay down again. I knew the morning wouldn't be as packed as the previous days, so I thought to myself: starting work at eight is still fine. But when the alarm rang again, it was even harder to get up than the first time. The first time, I knew I was getting up to go to the choir, to praise and glorify God. This time, I knew I had to get up to clean. Again, it was only looking at the LORD and speaking with HIM: "Not my will, but Yours be done!" that lifted me up.
And then, once I started cleaning, it wasn’t bad at all. With joy in my heart, a song on my lips, and a smile for everyone I met, I did my work and even had an hour afterward to start labeling some of my clothes. All our laundry is washed together, so each of us has a number to identify our things. And this number has to be sewn into everything. Every single sock. I’m not done yet, but I'm slowly getting the hang of it.
During Mass today, I was so hungry. Every word of the Latin Magnificat made me think of a different dish, depending on how it sounded... well, I guess that just shows how far I am from mastering Latin!
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