Blessed Comfort of Daily Mass

There's something so special for me, and has been since I was a small girl, about daily 

mass.

The pace is easier and the seats are usually filled with gray heads, creaking joints, kind 

smiles, and big hearts that have seen and withstood many a trial. Some of the wrinkled 

hands hold prayer books while others caress rosary beads, worn beautiful from being 

fingered for decades. Knowing these dearly beloved elderly people gather daily to pray 

on our behalf brings me deep, indescribable comfort.

Smiling softly as I've been a member of this parish long enough now to witness the 

changing of the guard, so to speak, as my parents' generation (and younger!) are now t

he majority in the seats. One day, which may be here sooner than I imagine, it will be 

my turn.

Until then, it is such a joy for me to join them on a beautiful summer morning.

(It would be disrespectful to take a photo during mass so this was afterwards.)

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I posted this a year ago on Facebook 

and was surprised to see that I hadn't shared it here.

Remedying that right now.  

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