The truest things...

I sit in my little end-of-the-hall office in the old nun's quarters of Nazareth Hall.  I have a map in front of me and a string of old Minnesota postcards that hang above the curtained window. Its a gauze sheath thing so I can see the shapes of those who pass by. Not their faces. Its strange to have an office - me, work by myself?? I suppose I'll accomplish a lot more, but I keep my door open as much as I can.


I can hear college student rambling up and down the hall, outside in the courtyard too. My corner is with the music kids and operatic outbursts are not uncommon...I work in an old monastery of sorts and I suppose that's pretty cool. Hmm, I think Thomas Aquinas is staring at me again, man that guy needs get a life! Well, I suppose I should make allowances - he is a statue.



The truest things that I believe are the things that I cannot see.