Path to the Grotto

"And now it is December. The trees that shade her in summer, yawn their nakedness into the cold blue sky. Mossy beds of flowers that usually stretch over the rocks to her niche are tangled dry weeds. The cracking coldness of the season numbs the iron kneelers at her feet and causes lighted candles beyond to sputter and jump casting leaping shadows on the Grotto walls. But she is not alone. Even when the heavy snow will bury the weeds and clutch the tree trunks she will not be without visitors."

-- Notre Dame Scholastic, 73:9 (1 January 1939).

© 2001 by Robert F. Ringel.
All rights reserved.