I had forgotten what mustard fields looked like... Sheet upon sheet of blazing yellow, half way between sulphur and celandine, with hot golden sunshine pouring down upon them out of a dazzling June sky. It thrilled me like music.
Monica BaldwinThe refectory is a cenacle in which the taking of food is transfigured almost into a sacrament.
Monica BaldwinI have always felt that the moment when first you wake up in the morning is the most wonderful of the twenty-four hours.
Monica BaldwinOnce allow your soul to be disturbed by any violent emotion and, like the waters of a tempest-tossed lake, it can no longer reflect the divine Image.
Monica Baldwin