Katherine of Quebec: A Miracle in Assisi

Many of us in this community know Katherine—or Katerina—from Quebec. Her contagious laughter and joy follow her everywhere she goes. She is sensitive, positive, and passionate. Her love of art is undeniable, and she has become a devoted collector of art pieces that speak to her heart. She once told me, “I feel called to support artists and show them they have what it takes. I want to buy the art I love and encourage artists to keep going.”

I first met Katerina in Sarasota when she came to a mixed media workshop. She arrived with a foot brace and crutches, carefully making her way to me. With tears in her eyes, she wrapped me in a strong embrace, overflowing with love and gratitude. It wasn’t really me she was thankful for, but the way art had found her and begun to heal her life. Her hug carried the weight of transformation—of pain turned into possibility—through art.

As I got to know her that weekend, I was struck by her energy, resilience, and passion for creativity. Her injured foot was clearly difficult to manage, yet she persevered through long painting sessions. Throughout the workshop, her hearty laughter rang out as she connected with other artists. On the last day, we all went to a pizza restaurant, where I watched Katerina arm wrestle nearly everyone—including my husband, John—and win! One of her hidden talents, as it turns out, is arm wrestling.

When Art Found Her

Before art, Katerina’s life looked very different. She had once been a city police officer, strong and agile, but twelve years ago she suffered a devastating slip-and-fall accident that left her foot severely damaged. Despite multiple surgeries, she endured constant pain and limited mobility. She spent more than six years in a wheelchair and even lost the love of her life, who couldn’t cope with her condition. And then, she found art.

Art became her healing. Both in the works she created and in the many original paintings she collected, she found restoration and hope. That same Sarasota workshop weekend, she purchased several paintings and wept tears of joy over each one.

A few months ago, I learned Katerina would be joining our art retreat in Italy. Normally, we advise against attending if someone cannot walk a mile unassisted, since European towns require lots of walking up and down hills. But for Katerina, we made an exception. Together with Bianca, our artist host, we carefully planned transportation so she wouldn’t miss a thing.

A Miraculous Encounter

Our first excursion was to Assisi, a historic city filled with the legacy of St. Francis and Giotto’s breathtaking frescos. While most of us explored on foot, Bianca arranged for taxis and buses so Katerina could take part in everything. She attended the watercolor workshop and even made it up the hill to the Gallo art supply shop.

The next day, back at our property, I noticed something different about her. She leaned her crutches against the wall and moved around without them, her face lighter and brighter. After class, she pulled me aside, her voice trembling with emotion.

“You know, I know what the presence of the Holy Spirit feels like. A year ago, I encountered God, and He filled me with His Spirit. I felt electricity and warmth rush through me, and I was forever changed.

"Yesterday in Assisi, I went into the church—not expecting anything, just curious. I grew up Catholic but never really connected to God that way. But then, suddenly, I felt that same presence again. Warmth filled my chest and spread through my body. And immediately, the pain in my foot was gone.”

Tears streamed down her face as she asked, “Do you think it’s possible God healed me?”

“Yes, Katerina! YES, He healed you!” I exclaimed, hugging her tightly as joy spilled from both of us. We laughed, cried, and celebrated together.

Courage to Trust

Still, she admitted, “I feel afraid… what if it doesn’t last? What if the pain comes back?”

“No, Katerina,” I said firmly. “God healed you there. You are a walking miracle. Believe it—it will last.”

The truth is, few of us know how to process something like this. To endure years of pain and disability, then suddenly be healed—it shatters everything we thought we knew. It’s the very thing we hope for but hardly dare to believe: a living God, moving in love, setting us free.

Over the next days, every artist at the retreat marveled at her transformation. Each morning someone would ask, “Still pain-free? Still walking?” And every time, Katerina beamed and said, “Yes!” She climbed hills, walked through towns, and left her crutches behind—without even a limp. With each step, her faith deepened, and her joy radiated.

A Bold Decision

Near the end of our retreat, we hosted an art show at a winery to celebrate the work created during the trip. For many, including Katerina, it was their first art show. It was a golden evening, filled with music from a two-piece band playing classics from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. We danced under the vineyard skies, swept up in the magic of the moment. Katerina, wearing a red dress, danced freely as if reclaiming the twelve years she had lost.

Later, at our urging, she joined the band to sing ”Amazing Grace.” Her powerful voice carried across the vineyard, releasing gratitude so profound that it seemed to pour straight into the heavens.

On the last night before returning home, Katerina made a bold decision: she left her crutches behind in Italy. Not only had her foot been healed, but her chronic fatigue was gone as well. She returned home a new woman—ready to step into her destiny and create the art she was born to make, art that brings healing and transformation to others.

A Walk of Faith

Katerina’s healing journey is a metaphor for all of us as artists. Each time we paint, it feels like something divine is at work through us. A small miracle appears on the canvas, and though doubt and fear creep in, the miracle comes again. Creativity itself is a walk of faith—we are never alone in it.

To date, Katerina has purchased nearly 100 original paintings from artists in our community, sowing into this collective miracle long before her own. She believes that each piece she collected played a role in drawing her toward her healing. Now, it’s her turn to create. She continues in the Mastery Program, bringing forth art that will carry the same power of transformation she received.

For me, it is an incredible honor to witness such a vivid display of God’s love. To see Katerina’s humility, her courage to believe when everything inside her screamed, “No, it can’t be”—and to watch her walk in faith with every step in Italy—reminds me of this truth:

Yes, God is still with us. Yes, He still heals. And yes, miracles are still alive today.

Have you experienced a miracle in your life?

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