Lauretta Hannon

Where do you feel closest to the gates of heaven?  

For me, it’s when I am in nature. Not in a place of walls, chatter, or fluorescent lights. But amid the work of the Creator of Creation. So when I read that the monastery was holding a “Walk With a Monk” event on the grounds, I had to be there. 

Led by the abbot, a group of 30 of us began a gentle hike through areas not usually open to outsiders. As we were about to enter the pine forest, we passed by a lush vegetable and flower garden where a gardener was plowing. 

“That’s Justin,” said the abbot. “He’s been a monk since 1972 and is from Nigeria. He prefers to work the garden in solitude, 6 to 8 hours a day. He’s 68 years old–and blind. He can’t see, but he sure can weed and plant.” 

From there we took a red clay trail deep into the woods on the 2,300-acre property. Throughout the hike, the abbot excitedly pointed out all manner of native plants, arthropods, birds and even the tiniest creepy crawlies.  

A show-stopping dragonfly appeared and flitted among us before finally lighting on a woman’s shoulder. I was sure it signaled a blessing of some kind–and selfishly wished it had landed on me. No sooner than I finished that thought, it darted over and perched on top of my head–for at least ten seconds. There were gasps, including mine. 

This thrilled the abbot. As I stood frozen, he said, “Boy, they will bite you, too! You have to watch out for that.” 

It would have been easy to swat the dragonfly away, but this was a communion of sorts, and I couldn’t permit fear to take over.  

Then the abbot came closer and exclaimed, “Hey, that’s a female common whitetail!” 

To which I replied, “Well, I have been called a lot worse!” 

As we finished our ramble, an insect the size of a pin head caught his fancy. It escaped each time he tried to catch it. Finally, he took something from his pocket and secured the creature inside it.  

While he shared fascinating facts about this bug, I noticed he’d placed it in a bottle imprinted with the words HOLY WATER. This struck me as both hilarious and holy.  

In that moment, the abbot clearly saw the world in a grain of sand–and heaven in a lowly critter in his holy water container. He held infinity in his palm and knew that all creation breathed together. 

This walk with a monk taught that if you seek the extraordinary, you’ll find it in the most ordinary. If you yearn for the grand, it is in the very small things. All life praises the Creator of Creation in its own way. Consider the gardener who cannot see and the plants that thrive under his watch. 

If I had my druthers, at least half of our church services would be conducted outside. Old-growth oaks would provide the pillars of the parish. A running creek, the living water. And a golden canopy, courtesy of Brother Sun, would shelter every living member of the dappled congregation below.  

Auguries of Innocence

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand  

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,  

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 

And Eternity in an hour.” 

—William Blake