When I see the butterflies in the window of Our Lady of Butterflies, I am there in the window with her, and I am there with myself on the outside, looking for a miracle.  Just a miracle, that’s all.

I really need to think this through a little more, the imperative miracle.  It seems to me it would take a miracle for so many things to happen in my life.  And I think “miracle” is synonymous with “impossible” in my mind, but that is too narrow for the majestic reality of the miraculous.  And why should I not deserve the impossible as much as any Butterfly?