Can you hear them? You should if you are not deaf. A child is crying. The child is wailing out loud. Why, I wonder. . . Deprived, possibly. Deprived of what the child would like to have. What would that be? I wonder…

I hear the sounds of children and perhaps adults talking. I know not what they are saying. Nothing is clear. Besides I don’t understand the language. But there is talking and there is, presumably, some form of communication.

I hear foot steps shuffling along. It is a hot day, and feet are tired, too tired to walk briskly. Feet are shuffling, dragging along the path almost as if they would rather not walk anymore.

There is the loud voice of a man. He is the one in charge. The picnic is over. The family is on its way home. It’s been a good day. They’ve had their time of relaxation. How good it is that families as this one share and care, share and care.

I hear the rustling of leaves. . . whispering to me. Be still. Be still. The wind seems to be doing its job well, keeping me cool and relaxed.

What more can I hear? The beating of my heart. My heart beats. In a time of meditation, I had prayed that my heart would beat as one with Jesus. Imagine that. . . consider that, if you will. I am enclosed. I am held close to the Heart of the One I love. I hold Him too  within my memory. . . and I am faint with joy. O, what a great time you are giving me, Lord.  Fr. Paul tells me that I am to be passive so I can receive. No guilt, Jo. Just have your vacation with  the Lord. Enjoy! Enjoy!