My sweet Little Flower,
your humble acts of charity
are like tiny mustard seeds,
yet when they’re poured out
upon the fruitful fields of Heaven
by the Father’s faithful fingers,
they form a mountain of love
that would gracefully tower
over the mighty Everest;
you stand in great strength,
as the missionary of missionaries,
in the gentle presence of
the Virgin of virgins,
the Mystical Rose
of incomparable beauty,
and your precious seeds of prayer
are cultivated with care by the
ever patient Divine Gardener,
nourished by His living water,
producing a bountiful harvest of
salvation in our suffering world;
above the clouds of worry,
your cheerful sky is always blue --
help me to follow your example
so that my soul too may sing
those heartfelt words of wisdom:
“My vocation is love!”