Speaking of celebrations, I hope there will be one or more gatherings to join next week on Thursday, July 4, the birthday of my country. It may be with the Maryknoll community, it may be with the local Mennonite community. We will see what takes shape next week.
Today, I am celebrating the arrival of mail. It is the second time this month I have been blessed with letters or postcards. Ironically, just after my screed against the Bolivian post office at the beginning of this month, the agency came through. And this morning’s visit to the post office brought more gifts. In all, a dozen pieces of mail received this month. And I know there is more still on the way. For those of you who sent me something, anything, in April or May, be patient, because it may get here in the final six weeks of my stay in Cochabamba. To the rest of you, I repeat my advice to refrain from sending any more mail to Convento San Francisco. Better to send your messages to Good Shepherd Friary in New York City. Thank you, everyone.
It is quiet here at the convent. The winter recess continues. Six of the nine student friars are away in other cities for their pastoral ministries for two more weeks. The present company of friars fits around one of the refectory tables; no need to set two tables. I am enjoying the vacancy of the convent—it conduces well to solitude. The only thing that would increase the tranquility is to send Carmelo on a canine retreat!
Now, waiting for clothing to dry and warm in the sun over the cancha. Some writing in the spiritual journal as well. I will finish Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See and begin, for the second time, Michael Crosby’s Spirituality of the Beatitudes. I may be ambitious and clean my room again! I have rehearsed reading aloud more of the witches’ stories that I will share tomorrow with the girls at Nuestra Casa.
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