Tonight in Guatamala, in a place lush with plants and beauty such that one from the comfortable but dry Midwestern United States might think "paradise" on first glance, lies a little girl. Her family has so little. The floor of their tin-roofed house is dirt. She has a matress, I understand. She like to sing and dance. She's four and beautiful. Dearest Lord Jesus, you love little ones so dearly. They are our spiritual mentors. And, God, I know there are so, so many beautiful little girls and boys who need our prayers. But this little girl struck me so. Please, Lord, as poor as my weak prayer may be, direct Your loving gaze toward Lorena and her family. Bless them with health and hope. From Your boundless love and mercy, give them a bit of the joy you've poured on me.
Blessed Mother, see this little girl and her family. Ask your Son, our Lord, to bless them, as you did it at Cana. Your mother's love is irresistable to Jesus, especially when offered on behalf of one so innocent and worthy as Lorena.
Thank you, my Lady. Praise be Yours, my Lord. I have every confidence that my request has already been granted and that Lorena's soul has benefitted from your perfect love.