“Mary’s Diary” complete, and Happy New Year!

May God richly bless you with all that you need from Him in this new year.

People have been asking for a complete version of Mary’s Diary, so here it is.  I will also try to figure out a way to make a link back to this post, in case you want to find it later.

Mary’s Diary

By Karis Joy Kornfield, age 13

December 9, 1996

1 of Elul (mid-August)

Dear Diary,

Rebecca and some of the other girls were teasing me about it, but I’m gonna write in you anyway.  Since Papa’s the only carpenter in the neighborhood, he’s been getting plenty of business; it took a lot of special time and sacrifice for him to teach me how to read.  When he gave me this diary on Passover, I just had to use it.  I was so busy, though, that I only had time to start now, four months after receiving it.

Papa offered to teach Rebecca, too, but she was horrified at the idea.  Even though Papa says any husband would be proud of a learned wife, she says “it just isn’t ladylike.”  Oh, well.

Speaking of wives, Rebecca won’t stop talking about marrying Aaron this next spring.  It makes me angry sometimes, and I tell her she’s getting boring, so please change the subject . . . but the truth is, I’m just scared.  I don’t want to grow up and change and get married.  I don’t want to lose Rebecca to Aaron . . . and I don’t see why she has to be so excited about it.  I miss the way things used to be, when we could play all day and just be silly, or get in Mama’s way and think we were helping, or visit our cousins in the next town and think we’d been to the moon.  Then we weren’t embarrassed or scared about anything, and didn’t have to worry about being “ladylike” or “proper.”  Sometimes I think we were a lot more sure of ourselves when we knew nothing at all.  And sometimes I wish things would never have changed.

I guess that’s part of why I wanted to write in you: to remember, later on, just how things used to be.

Mama’s calling, so I guess I’ll write more next week.  I can’t write every day, or I’ll run out of interesting things to say.  I do practically the same things every day: take care of the boys, mend, wash clothes, bake bread, fetch water at the well . . .  Speaking of water at the well, that’s what Mama’s calling me for, so I better go.

Sincerely, Mary

25 of Elul (September)

Dear Diary,

I have to hurry because it’s almost Sabbath, but I just wanted to say that I’ve worked things out with Rebecca.  She understands now how I feel about her getting married, and she promised we’d still be good friends.  I suppose it’s right for her to get excited about it, and I’m even a little bit excited (and a teeny weeny tiny little tad jealous too).  We’re working on her wedding dress, now.  Oh, it’s gonna be a beauty.  But that doesn’t matter, of course, since Rebecca looks nice even in rags.

Papa’s been visiting Jacob, the carpenter closest to us (and also one of his best friends) a whole lot lately; even more than normally.  But the strange thing is, he’s been talking more and more about Jacob’s sixteen-year-old son, Joseph.  Joseph sounds wonderful, but I don’t like the way Papa looks at me when he talks about him.  I hope it’s just my imagination, but I’m starting to wonder just how far apart Rebecca’s wedding will be from my own.

I’ve saved some of the best news for last.  Papa said that he and Mama have some “business to attend to,” so my little brothers and I will be visiting our cousins in Jerusalem for a whole month!  And it gets better: Rebecca’s coming too!  It’ll be so fun!  I haven’t seen Elizabeth for simply years!  And Jerusalem . . . oh, Jerusalem!  Am I dreaming?

Sincerely,

Mary

 

26 of Ethanim (October)

Dear Diary,

We just got back from Jerusalem, and it was glorious!  We visited all kinds of awesome sites, like the Temple and the new Antonia Fortress.  They really spoiled us.  We had sweet rolls for breakfast last Tuesday, and we even saw a play!  That was the best.  We traveled in a carriage (compliments of some rich guy feeling extremely generous) over beautifully paved roads, past hotels and shops and houses, and even Herod’s palace . . . then to the theater.  The play was a beautiful one, thought I didn’t understand it all.  A romance.  What I simply cannot grasp is why they have men in masks play all the girls parts.  We’re perfectly capable of acting!

Zacharias was chosen to enter the Holy of Holies this year.  We were all so proud and excited when we heard the news, we held a regular party right then and there, on the roof.  It was great.

I helped Elizabeth bake and clean a bit, but most of the time I had free to do what I wanted; make friends at the well, go to the market, work with Rebecca on her wedding gown, see the sites, trail after Zacharias to the Temple . . . I’ve never had a better time!

Elizabeth just adores Jacob and Andrew.  She’s all over them, being a second mother, and I couldn’t babysit if I wanted to (thank God).  It’s not that I don’t adore my little brothers; it’s just that I babysit every day, and a break is really nice.  The only thing I regret about this trip is that my parents couldn’t come too.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

27 of Ethanim (October)

Dear Diary,

Even though I was suspicious, I still can’t believe it!  Guess what my parents’ “business” was?!  (Well, of course, among other things.)  But this was the most important of all:  they signed the promise.  I’m to be married to Joseph in only nine months!  AAHHHHHHHHHH!

I can’t wait to meet him.  Well, actually I already have, when I was four years old and he was six, but that was ten years ago!  That was when I was a BABY, like Andrew.  That was when I had no idea I was going to marry him.  I don’t even remember his face.

I can’t believe it!  I can’t wait!  No, I wish I had never heard of him, cause I’m scared to death.  I don’t know what to think, and I guess it’ll take some time to sort things out.  But it doesn’t really matter how I feel about it; we’ll be married anyway.

When I told Rebecca, first she didn’t believe it.  Then she screeched and grinned and started crying all at once, and came and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe.  You would think it was her getting engaged, not me!

We’re almost finished with Rebecca’s wedding gown, so I guess we’ll start on mine now.  And now it won’t be Rebecca breaking up our friendship; it’ll be me.  I’ll be moving to the other side of town.  That’ll be the worst part.  I’ll have to make new friends, learn where things are and everything.  I hope I can visit my family and friends or else I might go crazy.  Everything I’ve ever known (except God, of course) seems to be changing.  It’ll take a lot of prayer and faith to get me through this.  Papa seems to think I’m up for it, and I hope he’s right!

Sincerely,

Mary

 

20 of Adar (end of February)

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe what just happened!  I’m still not sure I’m not dreaming.  This is way, WAY bigger than any marriage, even if I were marrying Caesar.  And that’s saying a lot.  But let me start at the beginning.

Today started out like any other day, with chores and taking care of my little brothers.  While Mama was giving me some tips on how to make a special type of cookies since I’ll be marrying Joseph in about three months, our neighbor called her over to help with something.  I was wondering what to do next when someone knocked at the door.  I went to open it expecting Rebecca, but there was this stranger there.  Guess what he said?!  No, you’ll never guess in a million years.  “Rejoice, highly favored one, the Lord is with you; blessed are you among women!” Now what kind of a greeting is THAT?!  I mean, I don’t even know the guy.  I was about to shut the door on him, thinking he was some type of wacko, when I saw his eyes.  Something in them told me that even though I didn’t know him, he knew me.  That scared me bad.  I still didn’t know exactly what it was, but something about this stranger seemed different, powerful, and therefore, terrifying.  For the second time in our brief conversation, I almost shut the door in his face.  I was sweating and shaking all over when he told me not to be afraid: I had found favor with God.  Those words hit me like a splash of cool water.  They were the words I had been longing to hear since I was old enough to know what they meant.  I was so happy I almost missed what he said next.  But when I did hear his words, I almost fainted.  I didn’t know what to think.  I was scared all over again—a new kind of fear.  Then relief washed over me.  Of course.  I was a virgin.  He must have gotten the wrong house (if someone like him could make a mistake like that).  I couldn’t possibly have a son, especially not the Son of God.  I told him that, and was about to suggest the next door neighbor, who already has seven kids, when he interrupted me.  All I heard was that there had been no mistake.  For God nothing was impossible.  Elizabeth, too, was pregnant.  God had chosen me!  And what had I done to deserve or prepare for that blessing?  Nothing.  It was the same as with Gideon and Abraham and all the great leaders—sheer grace.  I guess that’s when God seems the greatest: when he takes a nobody (like me) and makes something out of them.  Oh, thank you, God, for your amazing grace.

Anyhow, back to the story.  That’s when two things happened at once: the guy (I know now he was an angel) vanished into thin air, and peace washed over me.  I wasn’t sure exactly what was happening, and I definitely wasn’t up for it, but God was.  He would help me, and will help me, through everything.  Even if that includes giving up Joseph.  It doesn’t seem so scary when I focus on Him, and not on . . . TELLING MY PARENTS!?!!?!?  How am I going to do that??!!  Who would believe such a crazy story, even if they do trust me?  Well, here comes Mama now.  I guess the sooner I tell her, the easier it’ll be.  I’ll tell you how it goes next week (if I’ve worked up the courage to tell her).

Sincerely (and I really mean it) SINCERELY,

Mary

 

10 of Abib (April)

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve written.  I’ve been pretty busy, what with New Year and Passover.  No, I haven’t told my parents yet.  And no, it’s not ‘cause I’m a scaredy cat.  OK, so I AM terrified.  I still have an excuse for not telling them.  I’ve decided it would be pretty stupid just to go up to Mama and break the words over her head: “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.  I’m pregnant.” So I came up with sort of a plan.  I decided to tell her that something crazy and awesome had happened, but I wasn’t ready to tell her about it yet.  Then I asked Papa if there were any prophecies about the Messiah being born of a virgin.  He was shocked by the question.  Of course he didn’t know.  Where did I come up with such an idea.  Things like that.  He sputtered and stuttered so much that I was surprised he didn’t just keel over on the spot.  On any other occasion, it would have been hilarious.  But I was in no mood for jokes.  I was desperate.

When Papa regained his composure, though, he did give me permission to search the scrolls of Isaiah’s prophecies that he borrowed from the synagogue.  That’s what I’m doing now, and I’m starting to get nervous.  I’ve got less than a month before it’ll be obvious, and if I don’t tell them before that happens, any story will be hard to believe.  I haven’t found a thing, and I’m sick in the mornings.  I wonder if I could tell Rebecca, and if she would help me look?  No.  She’d freak out.  I guess I’m on my own.

I’m scared to trust anyone with my secret, because if someone finds out, and doesn’t believe me, I could get stoned for it.  I still have to fetch water at the well every day, and I must admit, I’ve been acting pretty strange.  As far as I know, tongues could already be wagging.  I’m terrified.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

17 of Abib (late April)

Dear Diary,

I’ve just read Isaiah 53, and it’s perfectly awful.  It says that the Messiah—and he’s not just the Messiah any more, he’s my son, my little baby—it says he’ll be wounded and bruised and killed.  I can’t stand it.  Why couldn’t God choose someone else to be his mother?  Why did he have to show me this, even before he’s born?  Couldn’t I have at least one happy day with my son, not knowing and fearing what’s to become of him?  Why do I have to suffer so, not being able to protect him?

Even though I try to trust you, Jehovah, sometimes I just don’t understand, and it’s hard.  But thanks anyway for letting me know beforehand, so I’m at least prepared.  I place this, along with the fear of rejection, in Your hands.  Please help me to trust you, even though everything seems so absolutely impossible.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

24 of Abib (early May)

Dear Diary,

Today it seemed like everything fell apart.  First of all, I woke up feeling so sick, I couldn’t even get out of bed, and Mama’s super worried.  She wants to call a doctor or something, and I almost gave away my secret trying to get her not to.  Then, Jacob came within two inches of what seems to be his main goal in life lately: get hold of my diary.  I snatched it from him when he’d just finished reading my first entry.

I’ve had no time to wash clothes lately, because of all my scroll searching and sickness, and today Mama made me take off the “wretched thing” I’ve worn for the past four days.  The fact is, it’s the only garment I’ve got that’s loose enough to conceal you-know-what.  So I had to go to the well in my tighter blue tunic.  I felt like I was screaming, “Hey, everybody, I’m with child, come and see!”  Obviously it wasn’t that bad, since no one noticed, really.  No one, that is, except Priscilla.  She kept on staring at me and snickering or blushing or whispering and pointing.  I’m sure she knows now, and I wish I could just disappear from the face of this earth.  If I don’t do something soon, I’ll be in serious trouble.  Talk about a lot of close calls!

Sincerely,

Mary

 

26 of Abib (early May)

Dear Diary,

Oh, Lord!  I can’t believe it!  You’ve answered my prayers completely.  I don’t know how you did it, but Isaiah 54 was written to me!  Actually, to Elizabeth and me, together.  The first three verses are for her, but the rest is mine: “Do not fear, for you will not be ashamed . . . your Maker is your Husband . . . for a mere moment I have forsaken you, but with great mercies I will gather you . . . your children shall be taught by the Lord.” (How could I teach the Son of God?  How much will he already know?  Now I’m not bugged as much by those doubts.)  “. . . Every tongue which rises against you in judgment you shall condemn . . .” Oh, thank you, Jehovah!  Now I’m beginning to understand how much you’ve blessed me.  And there I was for so long, complaining and wondering scared to death . . . I was thinking I was on my own, but I’m not at all.  I am so, so sorry!  How can you ever forgive me?  And how can you use me, if I don’t even listen to your voice or trust you?  It is truly hard to believe that you could choose me, even though you knew I would fail you and forget you.  But you DID choose me.  Oh, amazing grace.  You forgave me before I even sinned, for the sake of the treasure you’ve placed inside me.  To think that I carry the Child who will embody your grace before all mankind.

Now I know what to do, too.  It’s what you’ve been showing me since the beginning.  Why else would the angel mention Elizabeth when he told of my Son’s birth, why else would she be mentioned in my chapter, if our stories aren’t woven together?  So I’ll go to visit Elizabeth, because I’m sure she’ll somehow understand and believe my story.  Then I’ll have someone to talk to, and you’ll keep me from over-curious eyes.  I better fly, or I’ll be found out before I have time to get away.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

27 of Abib (early May)

Dear Diary,

After I wrote last, I hurried to pack.  I only put in the bag the things I really needed.  I was in a hurry and besides, I wasn’t leaving for good.  Then I sat down and wrote a long letter to my parents, explaining everything.  Andrew didn’t even ask what I was doing, because I wrote on my diary paper.  He thought it was just another entry.  I’m sure glad he didn’t ask, because I wouldn’t have the heart to tell him a lie, not after what happened yesterday.

Once I had read and reread the letter, I finally decided it was as close to perfect as it was going to get.  I went to fetch my bag and leave.  I had one foot out the door when I saw them: Mama, Papa, a young man (could it be Joseph?) and a few other visitors, some that I knew and some that I didn’t, in the yard.  I saw Mama look toward the door with an unbelieving, haunted look, and then the worst of all:  tears in Papa’s eyes as he whispered my name.  I fled, through a blur of tears, back inside.  They knew.  I would never escape through there.  My only chance was the roof.  But through that curtain of tears I couldn’t get anywhere.  I had to calm down, and fast.  As I sunk to the floor, my eyes fell on Isaiah’s scroll, abandoned where I had left it, just before packing.  Then I couldn’t bear to close the sacred pages, but now I knew I had to.  That’s when the miracle happened.  As my eyes fell on the scroll, one word jumped out at me: the word, “VIRGIN.”  I devoured the words all around it, and this is what I saw: “’Ask the Lord your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.’ But Ahaz said, ‘I will not ask; I will not put the Lord to the test.’  Then Isaiah said, ‘Hear now, you house of David!  Is it not enough to try the patience of men?  Will you try the patience of my God also?  Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin shall give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”

Can you believe it??!  I almost screamed right then and there, at the joy of it.  His mercies never end, do they?

After running to add my new discovery to the letter, I quietly slipped to the roof, climbed down and snuck away.  Now I’m on the road to Jerusalem!

Sincerely,

Mary

 

1 of Ziv (May)

Dear Diary,

I’ve been traveling day and night

 

End of what Karis wrote.  She stopped abruptly; we’ll never know why.

The rest of these entries were written by Debra Kornfield, Karis’ mom

1 of Ziv (May)

Dear Diary,

I’ve been traveling day and night the last two days because the caravan master wants to get to Jerusalem before the gates are locked for Shabbat.  Now we’ve stopped to rest, and I’m so tired I can hardly think.  But I have to share my excitement with someone, and you, my dear Diary, are the lucky one.  Tomorrow (tomorrow!!) we should arrive in Jerusalem and after Shabbat I’ll get up early to make the last long walk to the hills of Eshtaol.  Finally I’ll be with Elizabeth!  Since God has taken care of me so far, I’m sure I will arrive safely, even though I’ll be by myself the last day.

I decided that since God sent this caravan to protect us (me and the baby) I would put up with the camel-boy’s scolding.  He doesn’t get tired of reminding me how STUPID I was, a young girl completely alone, to think I could walk to Jerusalem by myself.  But I should back up and tell you what happened.  I was so tired, and so thirsty, and so frightened by the sudden appearance of the caravan behind me that I guess I fainted dead away.  When I woke up, I was swaying in a litter carried by two of the slaves.  I tried to sit up but my head hurt so much that I started crying.  They put me down (even though the caravan kept on going) and someone gave me a coconut to drink, only one but it made me feel SO much better that I was able to stand up.  They made me get back into the litter though to catch up with the rest of the caravan, because I was too weak to walk fast.  Every time the caravan stopped, they gave me another coconut and after awhile, some food too.  Oh, when I think of how good they have been to me, I can’t help singing out praise to Jehovah.  They had no need, no reason to take me in.  They could have just left me beside the road to die.

The camel-boy is Jewish, and has explained a lot of things to me.  (I’m SO grateful someone speaks my language!  I can’t understand the other people at all.)  They call him “boy” even though he’s a grown man, big and very strong from all the walking and all the work he does, and since he’s befriended me I haven’t been afraid of the other men.

I never DREAMED I would get so close to camels that I can now tell them apart!  At first I thought they were equally ugly and nasty and terrifying, but the camel-boy has been teaching me about them.  Anyway, his name is Micah and he was captured by this caravan ten years ago.  He was from a very poor family and one day he and two friends killed a sheep from the caravan with their slingshots, because they were hungry.  His friends got away but Micah didn’t because he was hiding to see whether they would leave the dead sheep behind or take it with them.  At first they were going to kill him for killing their sheep, but the caravan-master said they could use someone who was such a good shot, so they made him their slave and he’s been with the caravan ever since.

I’ve GOT to get some sleep, and it’s getting too dark to write, but I want to say just one more thing.  Micah told me that after they trade in Jerusalem, they’re going to Beersheba and then to Egypt and then the long journey back home to Ur.  Usually the caravan rests for awhile at home, but this time he and just a few others are going to turn right around and travel again.  Micah doesn’t know exactly where they’ll be going and it won’t be a trading caravan.  His lord is going to travel!  Something about the way the stars are aligning.  I don’t understand it but it was the strangest thing: when Micah talked about it, a thrill went through me from my head to my toes.  I felt like it had something to do with me and my baby!  Isn’t that strange?  I can’t get it out of my head.

Now: sleep.  Tomorrow: Jerusalem.  The next day: Shabbat.  The day after that: Elizabeth!!

Sincerely,

Mary

 

10 of Ziv, Shabbat  (May)

Dear Diary,

I knew that Elizabeth would believe me, but I never could have imagined the welcome she would give me.  She’s six months pregnant and her baby somehow recognized my baby!  Elizabeth was SO excited!  I didn’t have to explain anything—she already knew!  Oh, even this moment I praise the Lord.  Jehovah gave me a song that I have written down, and I am singing it back to him every day.

I am so thrilled to be here, sharing everything with Elizabeth.  And she’s delighted to share her experience with me, too, I can tell.  She told me all about the angel appearing to Zechariah in the Temple, and taking away his speech when he didn’t immediately believe.  I know there will be hard days ahead, but right now I’m just thinking about Jehovah’s tender care of me, to give me this peaceful and joyful time away from Nazareth.  It’s lovely to be here in Elizabeth and Zechariah’s home, instead of that cramped apartment in Jerusalem where they stayed for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

Even though Zechariah can’t talk, he can still write.  He sent a message to my parents right away to let them know I arrived safely.  By now they might have received the news that I’m OK.  Elizabeth says they were probably frantic with worry.  I’m ashamed that I didn’t even think about that; I was so desperate to get away.

Today is my birthday: I am 15.  My childhood is behind me.  As both a reminder of that and as a gift, Jehovah let me feel a fluttering in my belly today: my little one letting me know he is there.

I will miss Rebecca and Aaron’s wedding next week.  Our friendship will never be the same.  It seems so long ago that we were carefree children playing with our straw dolls in the haystack.

I wonder what Joseph is thinking and feeling.  Is he disappointed?  Upset?  Confused? Angry?  Will he divorce me?  The agreement between Papa and his father can only be broken by divorce.  Certainly he has cause.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

26 Tammuz (early August)

Dear Diary,

Papa is here.  He has come to take me home.  Truly, I am blessed among women.  Papa has talked with me for hours about what has happened in Nazareth while I’ve been away.  He and Mama have become convinced of the truth of my story, and are willing to stand with me before the community.  Guess why?  No, you’ll never guess in a million years.  Joseph had a dream.  The same angel who talked to me appeared to him and explained everything.  Joseph believed it, and decided he wants to marry me on Tu B’Av, the holiday of love, the most joyous day of the year!  By the time I get home, we will have only two weeks to prepare for the wedding.

It will be a very quiet wedding, of course—there’s no need to create even more scandal.  But Papa told me Mama has been making my wedding dress, guessing how big my child may be.  He says Mama misses me and is counting the days until I am home.  How amazing is Jehovah.  Oh, how my soul praises the Lord!  All my fears for myself have been put to rest.  What matters the gossip and disdain of the town if my family believes and supports me?  Think about it: Joseph and I (and Zechariah!) have been visited by an angel, one who stands in the very presence of Jehovah!  Perhaps one day our friends and neighbors will understand.

After our wedding, I will go to live in Joseph’s home and get to know my new family.  Oh yes, that’s another miracle!  Joseph’s family too has chosen to believe in the angel’s word about my son and is preparing to welcome me.  His father told Papa that Joseph has never lied to them, and they can’t think of anything he would have to gain from lying about this dream.

I am so very curious about Joseph.  What kind of person must he be, to accept this strange word from Jehovah, to face ridicule and rejection, to trust and even want to love a girl he doesn’t even know (why else would he choose Tu B’Av for our wedding day?).  What will it be like to belong to him?  Does he have any idea, really, what he’s getting into?  Do I??!

Elizabeth is calling me to dress for the journey.  I am sorry to be leaving her so close to the birth of her child.  I will miss her terribly and love her (and Zechariah) forever.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

2 Cheshvan (Nov. 10)

Dear Diary,

I have neglected you not from lack of desire but from simple weariness and lack of time.  The wedding, getting to know my new husband and family and all of their ways of doing things, the increasing discomfort of my pregnancy—all of it has been as much as I could handle.  Joseph is very gentle and sweet with me, and I am beginning to look forward to being truly man and wife after this precious baby is born.  Joseph is building a room just for us on the back of his father’s house.

The reason I’m writing now is that I am going to travel once again!  Joseph and I plan to leave tomorrow, while I can still travel without worrying about having the baby on the way.  Caesar has ordered that every family return to its original home to register for census and tax.  Since Joseph is in the clan of Judah (just like me!), we must go to Bethlehem.  Our families must go also, but they have decided to combine it with Hanukkah.  They will meet our baby Jesus very soon after he is born!!  I’m so, so glad about that.  (Oh yes, we’re calling our baby “Jesus” already, because that’s the name the angel told Joseph.  I love being able to sing and talk to him using his name!)  Mama is sure that our relatives in Bethlehem will take us in.  We’ll have to stay for several weeks because of the birth of the baby.  I’ve made the sweetest little clothes for him.

I have so much still to do for the journey—I must stop.

Sincerely,

Mary

 

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4 Responses to “Mary’s Diary” complete, and Happy New Year!

  1. Ralph Anderson says:

    Thank you, Debbie, for sending these intriguing & delightful diary entries which Karis wrote. She was truly a very gifted and creative thinker and writer. Thank you also for how you’ve picked up where she stopped. You’ve captured her spirit and style very well.

    Ralph

  2. Mary and Bill Fawcett says:

    Debbie, we do appreciate having the whole thing together…..I am sending it to some of my grandchildren:-) What a gift Karis had. We love you all!

  3. Carol Holstein says:

    Thank you, Debbie. I will treasure this. Wishing you and your dear family a 2015 filled with many of God’s Blessings.

  4. Joanell Zimmerman says:

    I appreciate this diary written by dear Karis and continued by you, Debbie. I wish I had it in book form so that I could give a copy to my grandchildren. (Am I never satisfied; always asking for more?) Thank you for this beautiful compilation giving us a sense of Mary’s life.

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