Devotion
A friend of mine was bicycling alone down a little-traveled road outside of Sacramento. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a structure in the distance. What he found was a small shrine with a marble statue of Mother Mary covered with dust and dirt from the fields, the paint of the wooden board behind her cracked and peeling, her feet covered with fallen leaves. My friend knew that he could not leave the Divine Mother in such a condition.