After Donna completed an oil painting, it was usually hung in the dining room at St. Mary’s where I live. Providentially, Donna was often nearby when I first saw it. The impact of the beauty of her work made me exclaim, "Don’t do this to me, Donna!" She’d smile and her eyes would light up. She had accomplished her purpose. Beauty had "flattened" my soul. I was powerless, so to speak, to "rise above" what was happening within.

Donna knew my passion for art. Her passion and mine met. For that one moment I allowed myself, we were one in spirit. This was our communion.

The beauty I met in her oil paintings was masterful. There was precision in her finely blended colors—and harmony. No brush stroke was too broad, too narrow, too weak, too strong. All held distilled passion. I knew I was beholding an attribute of God: beauty. And perfection. These are interlocked.

As I continued to pray about the purpose of art, it became clear to me that being interiorly "brought to one’s knees" is the embodiment of humility. When we allow beauty to enter our hearts, we are gifted with humility, and humility leads us more directly to God. Love is there, too, blended with humility like pigment with oil. Once blended, they are inseparable.

Donna gifted me, us, with this repeated opportunity to come closer to God. Instead of exclaiming, "Don’t do this to me, Donna!" I could have said, "Keep doing this to me, Donna!"

She and I both knew what was happening. Our eyes had met with understanding and delight.

[See some of Donna Surprenant’s paintings.]