God speaks not so subtly at times. Attending an early morning Latin mass dedicated to Our Holy Mother, upon request of new acquaintances in a new city, my preparatory prayers were met with a blissful invocation sung from a violin. A violin again. The blessing of sound experienced Sunday night at Victoria’s recital and my posting of a violin player with respect to a commonality with prayer soothed on into my day opening greeting of God. Silence I held. Rapture I encountered. Doctors of the Church have identified various levels of rapture experienced during prayer, yet I subscribe to the experiential. What is experienced is not experienced because one has read about it. It is not attained knowledge manifested into experience, rather what is infused by God is confirmed and clarified by teachings of the Church. The sound of a violin for the second time in three days carried my soul aloft. I never turned to see if it was the young Victoria, a visitor studying from a distant state, a young lady reposing into the Church as she enters adulthood and the vocation of classical musician. Being in the moment, aligned with the will of God, grateful for a bit of rapture, a sadness overcame as mass preceded. A wonderful family, four children and handsome parents, sat in front of me, the children holding their vigil candles with eagerness to light. The well behaved children brought deeper meaning to a mass dedicated to Our Holy Mother. An elegantly dressed business gentleman seated next to me, himself alone, passed the flame of fire to my vigil candle. All attending held upright our illuminating candles. After receiving communion, the sadness ensued. The family rearranged their positioning. Mother and father knelt directly in front of me. One of their children rested between them, mind wandering, eyes drifting, while locking arms with both her mother and father. Eyes closed, focused, and intent, the parents prayed while supporting one of their children. I watched the couple, clearing my mind of all thoughts, allowing the Eucharist to work upon me. The consequence resulted in sadness, love longing. Despair never played a part, as I determinedly held firm to hope. I thought about a friend who hints, I am not sure about exactitude, that indifference is truly a higher state of love. I feel it is a serious error of interpretation to perceive the dark night of the spirit as a passing above and beyond love and the ability to connect to one’s brothers and sisters. Charity must always be a foundation we spiritually build upon. I think of the highest contemplative Our Holy Mother with the passing of the feast day of the Immaculate Conception. Mary born free from sin, while endowed with self-will. She could sin, tarnishing the vessel God intended to birth His Son. Wonderfully, a credit to her parents Joachim and Anna, Mary kept herself free from sin throughout her young life. Hidden and devout, the first woman presented in the Temple—a startling feat in comprehension, Mary demonstrates the path of highest contemplation. Mary understands only love, harvesting intense meaning from every living soul, loving on a divine level, truly the Queen of Heaven.