I hear the bells! It seems as though they are inviting me to rise higher than this earth into infinite spaces where there is nothing but Thou. I should like to be utterly silent . . . O my God, may I live entirely within, in the cell Thou are building in my heart. Establish my soul in peace; make it Thy cherished abode, the place of Thy rest. Let me never leave Thee there alone, but remain ever there absorbed in Thee in living faith and wholly yielded up Thy creative action!
A friend once told me about the "home" he and his father had as refugees in Europe during World War II. He, his mother, and his younger brother moved constantly from place to place. . . . Each time they arrived in a new place, his mother would open the small suitcase that held all their belongings and bring out the lace tablecloth she had used for their Friday night meals in Poland, before they were forced to leave and begin their flight. In each place the ritual was exactly the same. She would place the suitcase on a table, carefully drape the tablecloth over the suitcase, light a candle, and in that moment, wherever it was became home. This ritual was their prayer.