War and Prayer

I had a dream the other night that it was the end of the world. Bombs exploded in the distance, dust darkened the air, and emaciated people ran barefooted with ashen faces, ragged clothes, and hopeless eyes.

Orphans came to me in desperation. There was no food. My heart broke for them.

Before I became despondent, two goats wandered into the scene. I sat down and began to milk. The children drank and drank the goats' milk, and I never thought this skill would be so useful.

My dream had a comical ending. But its beginning made me think of Middle Easterners who face the horror of war daily.

There is something more needed than physical food in this world. It is the hope that comes from prayer.

Prayer is powerful. I can't go to the Middle East right now to be with those people, but God can use my prayers to give them strength to persevere. Blessed Mother, be a mother to those people now. Amen.