For the past year, I celebrated Mass in a former restaurant. It was depressing for girl with an artistic eye who used to think nothing of driving to the National Basilica in downtown Washington D.C. My new mission church had tile floors and metal chairs. Unconfined by a solid pew, by toddler used to screeeeeeech the chairs against the floor as she hopped from one lap to another.
Then the new church came.
With beautiful stain glass windows from an old church in New York City--and what we were told was a painting of St. Francis and St. Clare of Assisi. I pictured the building committee buying something sweet and familiar and about 2 feet wide. My parish is very poor and very small.
Imagine the dramatic intake I breath, I had when I saw the new painting for the first time! It was over 8 feet tall! It wasn't dear old St. Francis and St. Clare.
Instead, it was Our Lady of Mount Carmel, St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross.
The most amazing painting I've seen online or in person in my years as a Carmelite. I knew it was a very special love-note passed from God's hand to mine.
