"Thanks" seems like such a feeble word

(a quick rerun from the first autumn -- 2005 -- in which I was blogging. It's all still true....) 

I have so much to be thankful for, and so few words to express it.

Thanks.

I'm grateful.

Thank You, God.

Thanks a lot.

No, I mean it. Thanks a LOT.

Really, I can't thank You enough.

I really appreciate it.

I credit You with everything.

Did I mention that I'm grateful?

Thank You. All praise, glory and honor are Yours, Almighty Father. So ... um, thank You.

See what I mean?

It sounds so feeble, so piddly, so inadequate.

What I really want to say is that I can't believe that the God of the universe cares that my soul was once headed straight for hell and now I am, at least, looking in the right direction. How does He manage not only to care, but to make me believe that He cares? To feel His love? To know that He is with me, faithful to me, every moment of every day, even when I am not faithful to Him? How does He do that? And how do I thank Him?

I can't. I can only pray, and gaze upon Him, and cling to Him in all that I do.

And, in my feeble ways, tell Him "thank you" as often as possible.


A prayer of St. Bonaventure

Pierce,
O most sweet Lord Jesus,
my inmost soul with the
most joyous and healthful wound of Thy love,
and with true, calm and most holy apostolic charity,
that my soul may ever languish and melt with entire love and longing for Thee,
may yearn for Thee and for thy courts, may long to be
dissolved and to be with Thee.
Grant that my soul may hunger after Thee, the Bread of Angels,
the refreshment of holy souls, our daily and supersubstantial bread,
having all sweetness and savor and every delightful taste.

May my heart ever hunger after and feed upon Thee, Whom the angels
desire to look upon, and may my inmost soul be filled with
the sweetness of Thy savor; may it ever thirst for Thee,
the fountain of life, the fountain of widsom and knowledge,
the fountain of eternal light, the torrent of pleasure, the
fulness of the house of God; may it ever compass Thee, seek
Thee, find Thee, run to Thee, come up to Thee, meditate on
Thee, speak of Thee, and do all for the praise and glory of
Thy name, with humility and discretion, with love and
delight, with ease and affection, with perseverence to the
end; and be Thou alone ever my hope, my entire confidence,
my riches, my delight, my pleasure, my joy, my rest and
tranquility, my peace, my sweetness, my food, my
refreshment, my refuge, my help, my wisdom, my portion, my
possession, my treasure; in Whom may my mind and my heart
be ever fixed and firm and rooted immovably.

Amen.

Quotes for a Tuesday

A few quotes on thankfulness, with a nod to Faith, who first linked to a page on gratitude at which I found these quotes:

The unthankful heart... discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!

~~ Henry Ward Beecher


Only a stomach that rarely feels hungry scorns common things.

~~ Horace


We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.

~~ Thornton Wilder

Book Review: Fire of God's Love: 120 Reflections on the Eucharist

I love quotes.

Quote books, quote websites, friends who send me quotes, great, obscure little quotes that pack a punch, quotes written on envelopes, and keeper quotes that leap out at me from the pages of a book in which I'm immersed, like a beloved friend showing up unexpectedly on my doorstep. 

I love my holy hour.

The quiet, the Real Presence, the candles, my husband praying next to me, the peace of prayer in the midst of a stormy world.

I love the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

I love that Jesus comes to me -- Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity -- each and every Sunday, and every other time I'm able to make it to Mass. I love that our Lord left us with priests, men whose hands and words miraculously deliver Him to us, in ways we cannot fully understand, but at the same time grasp with a sort of breathless gratitude.

And I love it when all these things come together.

My recent holy hour companion has been Fire of God's Love: 120 Reflections on the Eucharist, by Mike Aquilina. A collection of quotes from a wide range of sources, this book includes both the usual suspects -- St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, St. Ignatius, St. Bernadette, and other sublime and saintly voices -- as well as more contemporary offerings from G.K. Chesterton, Dorothy Day, and J.R.R. Tolkien. You'll even find Conrad Hilton and Marshall McLuhan alongside St. Pio of Pietrelcina and St. John Vianney.

This little book is a rich resource for meditation on the goodness and generosity of the God who gives us Himself in the Eucharist. It will take me quite a long time to exhaust its possibilities for holy hour companionship.

And you can quote me on that.

Recent Musings

Me: Does anyone else find it disconcerting that the little cemetery is just down the road from that truck driving school?

*****

Anne-with-an-e: Would a vegetarian eat animal crackers?

*****

Me: Where's the balance? When you guys were little, you were dragging me out of bed at 5:30 in the morning. Now I have to drag you out of bed. When will it all balance out?

Betsy: When we're in our 30s and you're too old to care.

Anne-with-an-e: No, it'll balance out when we have kids and they drag us out of bed at 5:30.

*****

Ramona: And now, it's time for our next guest on "The Invisible Show"!


Me (laughing ....) What's the Invisible Show?


Ramona (solemnly whispering):  You shouldn't laugh, Mommy. You're the next guest.

*****

Remembering Forgetfulness on Poetry Friday

I am, just as Billy Collins predicted (in the recording of this poem's reading, found here) "intensely fond of" his poem Forgetfulness.

I had forgotten exactly why I liked it so much until I listened to it again this morning.  I think it has something to do with the poet.

What was his name again?

Oh, yeah.

Billy.
Collins.
Love him.
I think. 

Forgetfulness
by Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

~~~~~~~~~~

(Read and listen to the entire poem here, at Poets.org)

Don't forget -- Julie Larios has the Poetry Friday round up today at The Drift Record.

A question for my male readers

I'm doing a scientific survey.

Do men eat cookie dough?

Inquiring feminine Edmisten minds want to know.

Atticus insists that it's a purely chromosomal phenomenon. He says the cookie dough gene is carried on the second X chromosome along with the genes for calling houses "cute" and saying, "Let's meet for lunch!"

Let us know, guys.

Grumpy or Grateful? Join me at Faith and Family Live to find out

which one wins.

Please join me over there to read What I Get to Do.

The No-Panic Advent Series, in the right order this time

This is the complete "No Panic" series for Advent, first run in 2008.

This is a monstrously long post.

I've gathered all of last year's posts together (in the proper order) to sidestep the problem of having to scroll backwards from the bottom of the archive/label page, which I know is really annoying. I haven't changed every '08-specific reference yet and haven't double-checked all the links, but I'll keep working to get those cleaned up.

In the meantime, I know my shockingly clever readers can figure it all out. 


A No-Panic Advent, Part I: The Jesus Stocking

The Jesus stocking is something I started when Anne-with-an-e was very young, and I was looking for ways to keep our Christmas focused on Jesus rather than all the (delightful and fun though they are) other trappings of the holiday.

It's a simple stocking (I keep thinking I should upgrade it to something worthy of our King, but on the other hand, I think perhaps He's pleased with the simplicity) and I used fabric paint to add His name.

What goes in the Jesus stocking? It can be whatever you like, but we've done it a couple of different ways.

Like the Thanksgiving Tree, each night at dinner, we all name something for which we're thankful. It's written on a small piece of paper, and added to the stocking. On Christmas day, it's fun to read all the blessings that were counted during Advent, from the littlest things (such as a tea party with Tigger), to grown-up concerns (such as being thankful that the car broke down in our driveway instead of twenty miles from home on a sub-zero day), to every-day-but-enormous joys (such as friendship, family and faith.) Here are some samples from years past:




Another idea for the Jesus stocking is to use it for corporal and spiritual works of mercy. Many of us are familiar with the idea of setting up a manger for baby Jesus and filling it with soft hay (we use yarn) in preparation for Christmas day.

The idea for the Jesus stocking is similar. Corporal and spiritual works of mercy, small sacrifices, kindnesses and prayers are recorded and dropped in the stocking as gifts for Jesus. The children are encouraged to fill Jesus's stocking with gifts throughout Advent.

For much of Advent, the Jesus stocking will be the only one hanging on the mantle (the small tree to the right is our Jesse Tree):


to remind us that He is at the center of the celebration to which we look forward with such joy. Surrounded by our favorite Advent books and calendars, this place of honor for the King is a constant reminder that what we anticipate in this season of hope is not a gift, but the Gift: our Lord and Savior.

Part II: Note some dates

First Sunday of Advent

December 5: St. Nicholas Eve (very important that St. Nicholas not go to bed without remembering to do a few things first)

December 6: St. Nicholas Day

December 8: Immaculate Conception (Holy Day!)

December 12: Our Lady of Guadalupe

December 13: St. Lucia

December 17: O Antiphons begin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you haven't observed all of these things in the past, do not -- I repeat, do not -- feel pressure to do it all. No one does it all.

You might want to pick one or two new things on which to focus -- and then, have fun with them. These observances are meant to deepen our faith and draw us closer to God. Getting stressed out about how well we do this stuff, or about whether we do it at all, doesn't deepen our faith; it just irritates us.

God doesn't want us to get irritated in preparation for His Son. That would sort of defeat the purpose of the Prince of Peace, wouldn't it? Peaceful and meaningful preparation is key. No panic necessary ... just keep your eyes fixed on the Prince of Peace.


Part III: O Night Divine!


Mary Ellen Barrett's Christmas blog, O Night Divine is the treasure chest from which you can pluck a few jewels for your Advent preparations and Christmas celebrations.


The archives are nicely organized in the left hand column so that you can easily find things such as crafts, teas, saint activities, and ideas that focus on the Blessed Mother. Scroll down a bit and find the feast days of the season. You'll also discover plenty of book suggestions, links to related sites, and categories for quick searching.



Part IV: Files

This one is simple.

Keep an Advent file. Bookmark good stuff on the computer, and keep a paper file, too.

Toss good ideas into your files as you stumble upon them. When you're halfway through Advent, or seven days into the Twelve Days of Christmas, and you discover a great new idea, don't kill yourself trying to implement it right now.

The idea will still be there next year. Most likely, you and your kids will still be here next year, too.

So, don't try to do it all.

That's what files are for: to hold all the great stuff you're not doing at the moment, but will, one day, do.


Part V: The Jesse Tree

Reader Keri asked about our Jesse Tree -- the "family scrapbook" as I call it -- and I want to expand a little bit on what we do.

Our Jesse Tree will soon reside on the hearth, awaiting its salt dough ornaments. This is probably one of the most "educational" Advent activities that we do. (Remember, though -- life is school, and school is life, so it's all educational .... ) I post a small sign next to the tree (just in case my children forget what I'm educating them about -- not that my kids ever forget such things ....) The sign reads, "The Jesse Tree ... Finding Jesus in the Old Testament" and that's exactly what a Jesse Tree helps us to do. It introduces us to the truth that Christianity is not a new idea, nor a religion dreamed up and perpetuated by a motley crew of fishermen and tax collectors. It is the fulfillment of God's story -- our story -- from the beginning of time.

Reading the Scriptures that lay the foundation for, and point us to, Jesus brings all those seemingly disconnected Bible stories together into a meaningful fabric, a tapestry of history that makes sense to even the youngest of children. When we compare it to a family's scrapbook, it becomes a metaphor children can easily understand. The symbols we hang on our tree are "snapshots" of the history of Jesus, which is our history, too.

The kids made our Jesse Tree ornaments a few years ago, out of salt dough. (My salt dough tends to break, so we have the fun of replacing ornaments every now and then.) I keep the ornaments right under the tree, within easy reach (though you may not want to do that if you have crawling babies or toddlers) for the daily reading and ceremonial hanging (does it count as a ceremonial hanging if children fight over who gets to do it? For young kids, I recommend scheduling the ceremonial hangings in a basic, "No fighting - your turn will come tomorrow," rotation.)

I began using our small, artificial Christmas tree as our Jesse tree just a few years ago. Before that, I dithered about, trying to find the best way to approach this activity. One year we did poster board and a hodgepodge of construction paper and 3-d ornaments; another year I searched in vain for the perfect tree branch to place in a pot, a la a friend's example. I was trying so hard to make it all perfect that year that I ended up abandoning the entire activity. Another year our tree was hastily thrown together on construction paper. I was pregnant with Ramona then, at a very tired age 41, and was extraordinarily pleased with myself for simply breaking out the glitter.

I was finally inspired to use our artificial tree by my friend, Johnna, who always has great craft and liturgical ideas. She began using their regular Christmas tree as a Jesse Tree, hanging Jesse ornaments throughout Advent, then taking those down an and putting up Christmas ornaments on Christmas Eve. I adapted the idea, and pulled out the old 4' tree that I'd been considering giving away. Our Jesse Tree tradition was finally settled. And, my kids were 11, 8 and 2. So. Huh. It took awhile.

And, what readings do we use? This took some time for me to figure out, too. I have to confess that for awhile, I reeeally disliked the Jesse Tree activity, because I couldn't find an easy, workable, all-in-one version of it anywhere. If one source had ornaments or other ideas I liked, it did not offer neatly corresponding readings. If I found a set of readings I liked, suddenly my ornaments no longer matched.

Harumph. Then, my English pal, The Bookworm came to the rescue, and we've settled in with a book she recommended.

The Jesse Tree by Geraldine McCaughrean combines a picture/storybook with the Scripture readings we want to cover. I use both this book and a Bible to completely cover it all.

An important point to remember about the Jesse Tree -- and one that will keep you from falling into dislike of this activity -- is that it doesn't have to be done perfectly on schedule or legalistically. So what if you miss a day of readings here or there -- it's okay! You can catch up when you have time.

What you're aiming for -- the truly important thing -- is increased familiarity with Scripture, and a growing understanding that Jesus is present in the Old Testament.

In the same way that our little math students do a lot of the same addition and multiplication problems year in and year out, students of the Jesse Tree study "the same old thing" each year,with the result being steady and continued growth and knowledge. Don't look for it to be (though it might be -- I'm not ruling it out) immediately transforming. It's an activity that grows on you, that grows on your kids, and most of all, that increases everyone's fluency with the word of God. And with the Word of God.

My final assessment: it doesn't really matter what kind of tree and ornaments you use, or which readings you choose. What matters is that you're digging into Scripture. Your ornaments might be hastily assembled, glitter-glopped and slapped on poster board, or they may be carefully fashioned in the weeks before or during Advent. Your readings might come from one source while your ornaments are nabbed from another. You might make up your own set of readings and symbols, or you might find a ready-made kit that's perfect.

But, the bottom line is that you should do what works for you and your family, for your possibly-tired-or-pregnant-or-incapacitated body, your crafty or craft-challenged self, your one child or your many.

What matters most is focusing on Jesus as the celebration of His birth approaches.

Don't do what I did, and let the quest for "the perfect Jesse Tree" put a damper on what can be a great way to spend time with God's word. Relax and have fun with it, and keep that big picture -- the growth and knowledge that will come over several years of doing it -- in mind.


Part VI: Don't Sweat a Little Secularity

Or, "What Does Miss Piggy Have to Do with Advent?"

Unexpectedly, Miss Piggy became a part of our Advent traditions about thirteen years ago.

When Anne-with-an-e was very little, my mother gave us an Advent calendar that included twenty-four mini books to be read each day of the Advent season. It was a secular calendar that had Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog bringing the O. Henry story, The Gift of the Magi, to humorous life. My daughter delighted in the story and looked forward each year to the daily books, which we read, then hung by their decorative little ribbons on the tree.

One year, before Atticus came into the Catholic Church, I worried that I shouldn't include anything secular in our Advent traditions. I was considering leaving the Muppets in their box, as I was trying to impress upon the kids what the season was really all about. I was trying hard -- without my husband's help, and that made it seem a heavier burden -- to be sure that my children were focused on Jesus. Though well-intentioned, I think I was wrong.

That year, at the beginning of Advent, Anne immediately requested the Muppet Calendar. My heart was softened. I saw, finally and clearly, that this was a beautiful way to include my mother (who is not a Christian) in our Advent preparations. She lives far away and we see little enough of her as it is ... wasn't this a lovely way to make her a part of our focus on Jesus?

I let go of any worries about the little secular traditions that we did, and still do, include in Advent. The secularities we cling to, that are part of our shared family history, connect us to those in our family who are not connected to Jesus.

And, who am I to say that God can't work through a Muppet?


Part VII: Simple but Cherished Traditions

Here are a few more easy ways in which we observe the beginning of the new liturgical year, and count down the days until the real Christmas season! These are simple, but oh-such-cherished traditions.

The Advent Wreath

Pretty self-explanatory. We love ours. It's an old hand-me-down from the friend who introduced me to Catholicism. It's not about how the wreath looks -- it's imperfect and crooked, like I am. It's about what it reminds me of, what (and Who) it points to.

For nightly prayers, we like to use selections from Prayers and Customs of Advent and Christmas.

This page has prayers for the beginning of Advent, along with short daily prayers for each week. This page has some nice prayers for very young children. Some short Advent meditations are here. All of the prayers on this site are short and easy for families to use.

When we light the candles on the wreath each night, we divide up the "duties" (which are seen by the kids as fun and privilege, thus the early fighting over them which resulted in the division of duty.)

One child lights the candle, one reads the prayer, and one gets to snuff out the candle at the end of the meal (the antique candle snuffer we use makes this task especially attractive.) This way, everyone is involved, duties rotate and everyone is happy. Some nights, though, everyone reeeeeally wants to light a candle, or everyone reeeeeally wants to snuff a candle out. So, sometimes, I must admit, we relight candles just for the fun of it, and snuff them out again and again.

Because we're easily amused, I guess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Daily Prayers
The girls and I pray together before breakfast every morning. (Let me amend that: unless something interrupts our routine, we pray together. If we have somehow missed morning prayer, it becomes obvious. In all of us. A hovering crankiness and irritability are sure signs that we forgot morning prayers.)

I vary our prayers with each liturgical season. Mounting a list of prayers on construction paper is a simple way to teach about liturgical colors. They know that if the prayers are on a green background, we're in ordinary time. During Advent, the prayers are in purple, on a purple background.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Advent Calendars

We read from our Muppet calendar every night. We also have another booklet-a-day calendar based on A Christmas Carol.

More and more and more Advent Calendars ....

Hmmmm ... maybe our Advent calendars are getting out of hand?

Naah ... We also do this one, which, like the Muppet calendar, was a gift from my mother years ago. We love this calendar. I have no idea where she got it, but every child loves to do this kind of simple activity. We hang one tiny wooden ornament per day on this wooden tree.


And, who can resist the chocolate-a-day-calendar? I have to confess that my kids do not get the highest quality chocolate in this kind of calendar, as I buy mine at the dollar store. But, they love them anyway, and it's a yummy way to count down the days.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We will also:

* fill an empty manger to make a soft bed for the long-awaited Baby Jesus (I simply use a small basket, set up in a central location, and pieces of yarn)

* decorate a Christ candle (I use an inexpensive white candle, and the kids decorate it with sequins and jewels; it sits in the middle of the Advent wreath but will not be lit until Christmas day)

* ready Mary and Joseph for their long journey (their figures are placed as far from the Nativity set as possible, and the kids move them a little closer to the stable each day.)

(These three activities and others are mentioned in this wonderful article by Michaelann Martin, which you can see for more details.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And, we will:

*Read all our favorite Advent books

Warning, warning: this will require a separate post!


Part VIII: Why We Read Advent Books (or, "In Which I Am Imogene Herdman")



(I originally wrote this essay for Cay Gibson's book, Christmas Mosaic, An Illustrated Book Study for Advent and Christmas,which is a wonderful resource for books, activities and recipes to use throughout Advent and the entire Christmas season.)

The Nativity

I remember when I first met Him – that Child who was born in Bethlehem. I didn’t bump into Him in my childhood (though I now know He was there all along.) No, our first encounter -- the one in which I was really a participant -- came when I was older. I was a twenty-something atheist, and a Catholic friend recommended C.S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe to me. “Pay special attention,” he suggested, “to the character of Aslan.”

My friend had a way of recommending things that dramatically changed my life, so I read the book. As urged, I “paid special attention” to Aslan, and I fell in love with him. And I fell in love with Him, though I still didn’t fully understand Who it was that I loved. But I knew I wanted to hold Aslan forever, in my arms and in my heart. Like Susan and Lucy, I wanted to bury my face in His mane, inhale His sweetness, and never let go.

A few years later, the same friend gave me Barbara Robinson’s The Best Christmas Pageant Ever, in which “awful old” Imogene Herdman (while playing Mary in the Christmas pageant) is walloped with the story of Jesus for the first time in her short, rough life. She can hardly bear the weight of the irony and the beauty. And as I read about little Imogene bawling her eyes out, I began to sob. I loved Imogene fiercely, and realized that I loved her because I was Imogene: I was that sad little girl who’d never known Jesus, but who one day collided headlong with the reality and power of Him. The God of the universe had bowled Imogene over and she would never be the same. Neither would I.

What changed the Herdmans, the Pevensies, and me? That child born in Bethlehem two millennia ago.

That child. It’s hard to fathom, isn’t it? A child, born in a stable, in poverty, to a virgin. A child raised by a foster-father in relative obscurity. A child who for many years was nothing more than a carpenter’s son. A child.

The Christ Child set a Herdman sobbing, made perfectly sensible little British girls follow a lion for the rest of their lives, and He crumbled my unbelief.

Such is the power of our precious Jesus, and of the books written about Him. Although I wasn’t raised on beautiful tales of our Lord, I know the compelling power of books. I want to share with my own children everything I can about Him. I want to give them the gifts of picture books, chapter books, the Bible. I want to give them storytelling, fine art and great music. I hope to introduce them, through these things, to the Source of all that is good, and true and beautiful. I pray my daughters will remember countless, sublime meetings with Him, and will yearn to inhale His sweetness, the sweetness of that baby in a manger.

That baby was born for us. He lived and died for us.

He loves us so much.

Let’s pay special attention.


Part IX: Favorite Advent Books

In December, our favorite Advent and Christmas books sit under our Jesse Tree, like the gifts that they are.

Here, in no particular order (and with links to past posts that contain more detail, in some cases) are some of our favorite books.

And, here's the "no panic" part: Although we own many of these, we certainly don't own them all. I make generous use of the library and then every year, I purchase one or two new books to add to our collection.

Here' s the other "no panic" part: We don't read all of these every year. We'll definitely read our dearest favorites, but other books will rotate. For example, one year, we really focused on all of the American Girl Christmas stories, and we baked related treats, learned more about Christmas in other times and places, etc. But, we don't always get back to those books every year. Read and do what works for you.





The Donkey's Dream by Barbara Helen Berger is an all-round favorite.

In this post, I talked about it, and about "how literature teaches us beautiful things."







The first time we read The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey I cried a bucket. What a touching story about love and patience, healing and Christmas. Recommended with vigorous nodding of the head and tears in my eyes.








As I said in this post, The Twenty-four Days Before Christmas is out of print, but used copies are floating around. A very sweet story by Madeleine L'Engle, and worth hunting down.








The Tale of Three Trees: A Traditional Folktale is a story that can be read anytime, but is especially good for Advent and Lent.

It's a simple, beautifully illustrated book that helps children to see that God will answer our prayers, but not always in ways we can foresee.







The feast of St. Nicholas has us reading The Miracle of Saint Nicholas (Golden Key Books) and The Real Santa Claus: Legends of Saint Nicholas (Yikes! Looks like that one's gotten rare.)






Alas, we do not own this one, but must request it via inter-library loan each year. Used copies of this book, written once-upon-a-time by Little House author Melissa Wiley, go for staggering amounts and so we must be happy with our annual library check-out.

Our must-read on St. Lucia day, along with saint books that tell us more about St. Lucy.





We love Tomie de Paola's The Legend of the Poinsettia and The Night of Las Posadas. And, don't forget Jingle the Christmas Clown and An Early American Christmas (yikes, two more rare books! Check your library and watch your library sales.) Country Angel Christmas is a sweet one, too. And, anything else by Tomie de Paola that we can find.






 My sister gave The Legend of the Candy Cane to Anne-with-an-e when she was very little. A very sweet book.










It has become a tradition that both The Legend of the Candy Cane and Jan Brett's The Night Before Christmas must be read by Atticus on Christmas Eve.








Gennady Spirin's rendering of The Christmas Story is gorgeously illustrated. I think I bought this one for me.











Okay, so I cry a lot. Yes, I cried at this one, too. A lot. Love this book. Silver Packages is beloved by all the females in the house. Atticus has probably never read it, but then, he doesn't love to cry.






More and more:

The Legend of the Christmas Rose by William Hooks
Bright Christmas : An Angel Remembers by Andrew Clements
This Is the Star by Joyce Dunbar
Jesus by Brian Wildsmith
A Christmas Story by Brian Wildsmith
The Gift of the Magi (this version, illustrated by P.J. Lynch, is on my wish list for "Books to Add This Year")
Hark! A Christmas Sampler by Jane Yolen
This Is the Stable by Cynthia Cotten
The Story of Christmas (Orchard Paperbacks) by Jane Ray
The Littlest Angel by Charles Tazewell (just ignore the faulty theology. Sorry. I can't help it.)
Jacob's Gift by Max Lucado
Christmas with Anne and Other Holiday Stories by L.M. Montgomery
The Christmas Story by Kay Chorao
A Little House Christmas Treasury: Festive Holiday Stories (Little House) by Laura Ingalls Wilder
American Girl Christmas Books

And, of course:

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson
and
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis



Part X: Don't forget 


It's the second Sunday of Advent. We've begun our preparations for Christmas, our favorite Advent observations are in place or are unfolding, and if they're not, we're not panicking.

We're savoring the liturgical season, we're reading beautiful (and sometimes goofy, as Atticus reminded me in this comment) books with the kids, and we're teaching them about watching, waiting, and preparing for the Lord.

But, what are we doing for ourselves?

I will grant you that all of the things we do for our children during Advent are done for us, too. We can benefit enormously from the books we read, the talks we have, the thought and consideration we give to our preparation. But, sometimes, it isn't enough, or it isn't exactly what we need. God wants not only for our children to be prepared but for us mothers to be ready, too.

During these weeks before Christmas, don't forget to do something for your own spiritual growth.

What do you want to do?

What do you need to do?

It doesn't have to be monumental. It just needs to draw you closer to the One who came for you, lived and died for you, and wants you to be with Him for all eternity.

What might help?

• A book you've been meaning to read
• More time with Scripture
• A single Scripture verse on which to meditate ("The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is His name," from Luke 1:49 can lead to endless, grateful meditation ....)
• A saint's biography or a collection of quotes from the saints
• An extra five or ten minutes of prayer a day
• A promise to give up complaining
• A promise to give up something else until the joy of Christmas arrives
• Daily devotional readings for the season

Something.

You know what it is for you, and I know what it is for me.

Remember: not only are we awaiting His arrival ....

He's waiting for us.


(The painting: The Annunciation by Henry Ossawa Tanner, 1859-1937.)

Part XI: Upcoming Feasts and St. Lucia Bread

The feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Catholic Cuisine has easy, doable ideas for "Rosy Treats" here and other festive foods here.

We haven't gone all out for this feast day in the past, because I've always been overwhelmed busy, but not panicked, by other observances. But, this year, I added Tomie de Paola's The Lady of Guadalupe to our book collection. I won't get any special baking done for this feast, but I'll gather a few other resources from the web to share with the girls about Our Lady of Guadalupe, patroness of the Americas.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Saturday is the feast of St. Lucia, and with it comes the Lucia bread:


Do not be intimidated by this yeast bread recipe!

If I can make this bread (and make it look beautiful), anyone can. Really. Trust me on this. This bread is easy. A little time-consuming (for a woman who, when left on her own, could easily eat tuna out of a can and call it a meal) but easy.

And, as I mentioned in this post, if you don't have time to make it this weekend, save the recipe and make it another day. It makes a great King's Bread for the Epiphany, too.

Here's the recipe, which came to me from my friend, Holly, and to Holly via Family Fun:

Braided St. Lucia Bread

Dough:
1 1/2 cups milk
2 (1/4 oz.) pkgs. active dry yeast
1/4 cup sugar, plus 1 T. sugar
6 T. butter, cut in pieces
2 large eggs
1/4 cup orange juice
1 T. finely grated orange rind
1 t. salt
5 1/2 - 6 1/2 cups flour

Glaze and garnish:
2 1/2 cups confectioner's sugar
2-4 T. orange juice
1/3 cup dried cranberries

Warm the milk in a small saucepan, then pour 1/2 cup of it into a large bowl. Add the yeast and 1 T. of the sugar and let it sit for 5 min.

Melt the butter in the remaining milk. Add butter/milk mixture to the yeast mixture. Whisk in the eggs, juice, 1/4 cup sugar, orange rind, and salt. Stir in the flour, 1 cup at a time, until the dough can be gathered into a ball. Knead the dough on a floured surface for 10 min., adding more flour until the dough is smooth and elastic and doesn't stick to your hands. Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl, turning it once to coat it. Loosely cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it rise until doubled in size, about 1 1/2 hours. Punch down the dough and divide it into 3 equal parts. Roll each part into a 30-inch rope and braid the ropes together. Transfer the braid to a greased baking sheet, pinch together the ends to form a circle and let it rise until doubled in size, about 45 min. Bake at 375 degrees for 25 min., or until golden brown, then let cool on a wire rack about 30 min.

For the glaze, stir together the confectioner's sugar and orange juice until smooth. Drizzle over the bread, then garnish with cranberries. Add candles for "wreath."

And here are some things we've done in the past to celebrate St. Lucia:

Made wreaths for daughters and dolls

Found something (anything white) for the girls to wear for a St. Lucia procession through the house, and read Hanna's Christmas.

Employed "flexible homeschooling" in an off-year (i.e., when Ramona was still keeping me up every night, for the third year in a row of her fabulous life), and didn't sweat the imperfection known as "not doing it all" and also known as "moving St. Lucia day to a Saturday," which is not necessary this year, as it conveniently falls on a Saturday.


Part XII: A Prayer

Dear Lord,

When I become harried
and impatient,
when I think I have too much to do
and not enough time,
when I feel burdened
by obligations,
responsibilities,
activities and
busy-ness,
please, Lord,
give me the grace to remember,
always to remember,
that my obligations,
responsibilities,
activities and busy-ness
spring from
an abundance of blessings.
Enormous, ineffable blessings.
Help me to see my busy days
and busy ways
as the privilege and the gift
that they are.

Help me to remember, pray for,
and tangibly support
those who are not "burdened"
by too much to eat,
too much to bake,
too much to decorate,
too many books to read.

Help me, Lord, to see the Advent of Your birth
as a time to remember all of these things,
to drop to my knees and thank You,
always to thank You,
for so much undeserved Love. 


Rejoice! (Part XIII of a No-Panic Advent)

Gaudete Sunday! Rejoice!

We are more than halfway through Advent, and the celebration of the birth of our Savior will soon arrive.

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!" ~~ Philippians 4:4

And, do not panic! I know that Christmas is only, oh, say, tennish days away. But, again, I say: do not panic!

Unless you're Jennifer, and you also have your daughter's First Holy Communion approaching. Jennifer has free reign to panic.

But, the rest of us are called to remember that even though we're headed down the path of busy-ness, if some of that busywork falls by the wayside, or is someone gets the flu and all your plans are for naught, or if something this year just isn't quite right, isn't the perfection you had hoped for, it's okay. Christ will still come. He came two thousand years ago, He is here now, He will arrive for Christmas, and He will remain with us always.

Again I say, rejoice!

"Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus." ~~ 1Thess. 5:16-18

Part XIV: A Week Before Christmas -- Do You Know Where Your Daughter's Tights Are?

One week until Christmas!

What do I still need to make? Buy? Wrap?

Who has a birthday in December that I've completely forgotten? (I'll remember Jesus, of course, but others? Friends? Family? Who needs a birthday card?)

Have I thought about those stockings that will soon hang over the fireplace, and about what will go in them?

Speaking of stockings, when Christmas Mass rolls around will all of my children have tights/socks without holes/hose without runs? Clothes that fit? Shoes that won't send them into last-minute snits? Some mothers might buy festive new clothes each Christmas, but others do a little jig of joy when everything from last year (or in Ramona's case, the most current Christmas hand-me-down) fits. Yes. That'd be me.

And, let's be totally honest here. The problem with writing and running a "No-Panic Advent" series is that at some point any sane, normal, writer-mom will panic.

I did. I have panicked.

"Hi, my name is Karen, and I'm a fake."

Well, not really. I haven't had any cataclysmic meltdowns, haven't taken anyone's head off (well, not completely, and I did tell Anne-with-an-e that I was sorry for being snippy), and I haven't run from the house, ripping my hair out and screeching, "I thought I had more gift bags!" (No, I calmly drove to the store, and merely felt like screeching when the check-out clerk insisted that the "50% off all Christmas wrap" sign directly above the gift bags was not misleading because the bags were not, and have never been, on sale. Okay.)

But I've had my moments. Suddenly, it seems, Christmas is almost here, and there are things I've forgotten, things on which I fell behind, things I haven't gotten around to (and actually, for you sticklers, that should be, "things to which I haven't gotten around," but as Winston Churchill said of preposition placement, "There are some things up with which I will not put.")

Last night, when I went to have coffee with two friends, I practically threw their Christmas gifts at them and said, "Now I can cross you off my list." I was kidding, of course, but there is something to that awful, "Must ... Do ... During ... Advent .... " spell under which we all fall.

Sometimes things providentially pop up, things that help us rearrange our priorities. For example, although we always celebrate St. Lucia Day, this year was different. Some friends were available at the last minute and able to have our kids overnight while Atticus and I ran away for a one-night vacation. We've never left all three of our girls before, so it was the proverbial big deal. We jumped on it and were thrilled we did. We had a great time, and Ramona survived the separation (although, after our reunion she noted, "I did miss you more than I can say. And I love you dearly.") We missed doing our traditional St. Lucia activities (the bread, however, had been consumed and eaten two days prior), but when I felt a pang about that, I reminded myself that "no panic" means accepting what God allows.

Sometimes it's a refreshing one-night vacation.

Other times, it means someone is throwing up on Christmas Eve.

Whatever happens, we can rest assured that He knows about it. And He'll get us through.

So, when I start to panic, I go back to my prayer. It grounds me. It reminds me that Christmas is not about shopping and doing, and not about presents (with the exception of the Ultimate Gift.) Rather, it is about sin and redemption, about panic and apologies.

And, it will come, as the Grinch learned, whether it is surrounded by all our cultural, habitual trappings or not. It will come to our sloppy, imperfect selves, and when it does, I need only ask myself, "Is Jesus pleased with what I've given Him this Advent, and in this Christmas season, or is He wagging His finger at me?"

If I sense any Divine finger-wagging, then I can get a head-start on the next to-do list: spiritual resolutions for the new year.

Because He's all about beginnings, this God of ours.

Now, I'm off to cross "tights" off my shopping list.

To Santa or Not to Santa?


There are always Santa conversations at this time of year.

We're all busy, so I'll make this quick.

We do "No-Panic Santa."

I don't worry about it. Honestly, I don't. When Anne-with-an-e was a baby, I worried (a lot) that lying about Santa would mean that one day she'd think I'd lied about God, too. When she was two years old, people would ask her what Santa was going to bring, and she'd stare blankly at them, wondering who in the world they were talking about.

But then, my own past Santa fun crept into our Christmas traditions, and so, yes, we started "doing" Santa. (Why does this blog always sound slightly confessional? "Hi, I'm Karen. And I lie about Santa.")

Well, I don't out and out lie. I imply. I play a game. We get a visit from St. Nicholas on his feast day ... we have presents from him on Christmas morning ... We wink, we leave cookies, we love the magic.

And, although I completely respect the many different ways that good Catholic parents handle this question, here's the reason I don't worry that "the Santa lie" will lead to atheism:

God is real.

My children will know, see, and feel His fingerprints on their lives. We have seen God at work, and we know He isn't the stuff of toyshops and flying reindeer.

Yes, Ramona will learn that Santa was just a lot of fun pretending. But, she'll also know that Jesus is a powerful King.

Feelings on Santa vs. no-Santa are subjective and personal, and I would never say that my way is universally the best. I can understand the other side. I'm just saying that personally I no longer fret over it. And, since there's no doctrine of the Church that says we must not do Santa, I think I'm in faithful territory.

And, sometimes, even the most roundabout of ways of celebrating things can have lovely, unexpected, faith-filled results. I thought of that when I reread this old post on Santa, at The Wine Dark Sea.

Melanie writes,

"The Santa myth can be in our secular world a sort of pre-gospel."

I completely agree. As someone who grew up with Santa, but without religion in Christmas, I can say that Santa was indeed pre-Gospel for me. Santa was unconditional love. The times I was bad? He never left me a lump of coal. Not once. (Thanks, Mom and Dad.)

And Santa was magic.

God is the ultimate Unconditional Love and the True Magic.

I know that somewhere, deep down, the child who loved Santa was yearning for Christ.

And He came to me. Just as Santa did. But when He came, the Magic was bigger, and powerful.

And when He came, the Magic was here to stay.

******************************************

12/24/08 Edited to add this great bit of G.K. Chesterton, courtesy of Chris in the comments:

On Christmas morning, he [Chesterton] remembered, his stockings were filled with things he had not worked for, or made, or even been good for.

The only explanation people had was that a being called Santa Claus was somehow kindly disposed toward him. “We believed,” he wrote, that a certain benevolent person “did give us those toys for nothing. And ... I believe it still. I have merely extended the idea.

“Then I only wondered who put the toys in the stocking; now I wonder who put the stocking by the bed, and the bed in the room, and the room in the house, and the house on the planet, and the great planet in the void.

“Once I only thanked Santa Claus for a few dolls and crackers, now I thank him for stars and street faces and wine and the great sea. Once I thought it delightful and astonishing to find a present so big that it only went halfway into the stocking.

“Now I am delighted and astonished every morning to find a present so big that it takes two stockings to hold it, and then leaves a great deal outside; it is the large and preposterous present of myself, as to the origin of which I can offer no suggestion except that Santa Claus gave it to me in a fit of peculiarly fantastic good will.”

********************************************

Aaahhh ... no one can say it quite like G.K. Thank you, Chris.

A No-Panic Advent, Part Who-Knows?: The Last-minute "To Do" List

Christmas Eve:

• Put Ramona's church bag together (just a couple of extra things for her to do and read while we wait and wait for Mass to begin)

• Bake the birthday cake for Jesus (not done yet, but it will look something like last year's cake):

• Make a pie

• Watch in awe as my husband works various other food magic in the kitchen

• Look forward, with increasing anticipation, to the celebration of the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me

Wishing you a blessed, happy and holy Christmas Eve.


On the Sixth Day of Christmas ... (in which she finally talks about the Twelve Days)


We've been "keeping Christmas" here (translate: "keeping too busy to blog") so rather than talk about it, we've been celebrating and visiting friends (with a bit of work sprinkled in, just to keep me from becoming a slug.)

But I wanted to take a moment out to share some ideas on keeping the Twelve Days.

When we first started doing some of these things, my kids noticed that much of the world was dismantling Christmas Joy just as we were picking up speed. I told them (repeatedly, because that's a mother's job), "It's a shame the whole world doesn't realize that the Christmas season is just beginning! They don't know all the fun they're missing!" The harping instruction paid off. They get it. And Ramona, who has never known any other way, is the first to correct one of us if we call Advent "the Christmas season." Which can be kind of irritating, but endearing. Mostly endearing.

Ideas:

• Keep your tree up until the Feast of the Epiphany, of course

• Read with the kids about the twelve days

• Keep watching Christmas shows and movies, continue reading Christmas books

• Post prayers for the season (I put them up on the wall in our kitchen -- our page of prayer intentions for the Christmas season is accented with glitter. One can never have too much glitter)

• Send Christmas greetings during the 12 days ... and don't apologize for it -- it's the Christmas season! Mine went out yesterday and today

• Observe the Epiphany -- have a Twelfth Night party, or make Kings' bread (the St. Lucia bread works well, or perhaps make a "King Cake" -- Google it for endless possibilities. Other ideas are here at Catholic Cuisine)

• Give Epiphany gifts (as large or small as you want them to be)

• Have the wise men from your Nativity set travel through the house during the 12 days, making their way to the stable

• We always make our gingerbread houses (Santa leaves kits) during the Twelve Days

I just found this page at Catholic Culture. You can click on each day of the Twelve Days for a new activity and recipe.

In keeping with the "No Panic" philosophy, don't try to incorporate twenty-seven new things into a twelve day period. Pick a couple, and put the rest in the file.

If you have other ideas to share, please leave them in the comments, and I'll add to them to this post.

12/31/08: Edited to add ideas:

From Sarah, who inspired this post:

I have some friends whose kids open one gift a day for each of the 12 days, some gifts are larger and some are very small like what might be used as a stocking stuffer. We're considering that for next year. We read The Three Wise Kings by Tomie de Paola a few weeks ago and I'm planning to pull it check it out from the library again to read this week.

From Jenn:
We read all our Christmas books and bake a festive cookie every other day or so (instead of all at once like I used to do.) We read The Legend of Old Befana on January 5th and make pizzelles on Epiphany. That's the only thing set in stone. I also finally found the frankincense and myrrh incense I bought last year. Lucy's conveniently learning "We Three Kings" on piano.
Our priest was talking about the peace of Christ on Christmas Eve. I've always hoped for a peaceful Advent and it struck me as very fitting that night that that peace I've longed for arrives the very moment we gather to celebrate Christ's birth and is very tangible throughout the Christmas season.

from Margaret in Minnesota:

We keep the season by talking about the 12 Days of Christmas--specifically, the Christian symbolism of each of the days. And we don't sweat the "small" stuff, like getting cards and presents out "on time". As my dear friend Sarah puts it, we're supposed to be living Christmas every day.

1/5/09 -- More ideas:

My friend, Mary P. writes: "I bought an Advent box at Starbucks. Behind each door was a piece of candy. Why not make one for the 12 days of Christmas? I think I know somebody that would like chocolate each day."

from the comments:

Amy says: "My kids were thrilled to get a little bag with their own kid-friendly versions of gold (chocolate coins), frankincense (scratch-n-sniff stickers), and myrrh (bubble bath)."

Connie's Daughter says: "You know, Karen, the Christmas Season goes until the feast of the Baptism of Our Lord, which this year is on Jan. 11th. We usually keep our tree up until then, and we have lots of treats throughout the entire time, ice cream being our favorite. :) And even though the world has moved on, I continue to wear my Christmas sweaters and earrings and socks. Our Nativity set is still being lit each night in our yard, too!"




Twelfth Night!


It's still Christmas!

Though we American parishes celebrated the Feast of the Epiphany on Sunday, today is the Twelfth Day of the Christmas season, so feel free to celebrate the Epiphany again tomorrow. We plan to.

We made King's Bread (aka St. Lucia bread) today and although we're easing back into our "real life" routines this week (poor Atticus had to head back to work), we'll certainly take tomorrow off.

As Connie's Daughter reminded us in the comments on this post, even though tomorrow brings the Twelve Days to a close, we're still liturgically in the Christmas season until the Baptism of the Lord, on Sunday, Jan. 11th. The Catholic Culture link from the post I just mentioned has activities and recipes through that day (eighteen full days of fun) in addition to the twelve.

We just did gingerbread houses:



and I imagine we can find a few more things to read, eat and celebrate this week.

Merry Christmas!

My first review of the Rosary book in Spanish

It's here, at Luz Para Ver.

Thank you, David!

4-H ... for Jenn

Occasionally I mention the fact that we're involved in 4-H and then Jennifer  hints that she'd like to hear more. I repeatedly promise that I'll tell her more, and then I neglect to do so.

Today, I will do so.

We first got involved with 4-H about three years ago. A friend described the club she belonged to, and we joined.  The club was a great introduction for us, if ultimately not a perfect fit. The leader was a sweet, very talented (think Craft Mom) woman who planned an activity for each monthly meeting, thereby providing us with several completed projects which were ready to enter in the county fair when summer rolled around. 

The only problem with this method (for us) was that our supposedly completed project always ended up being our "practice project" and the girls regularly wanted or needed to redo it once we knew what we were doing.  The exception was their  pillows, which amazingly were beautiful. 

I say "amazingly" not due to any lack in my girls, but because of my sewing fears.  So, Pillow Beauty came at a price, but, hey, we did it. And we learned something, just as we did when we sewed pillowcases and discovered the Knifty Knitter.

Some of the projects the girls have pursued on their own include a "Family History" display (in which we dug into the family tree), an animal science report/poster on cat allergies, an interview with a favorite author, scrapbooks chronicling participation in plays, reports on community service, cookie baking and cake decorating.
We were club members for two years and did a lot of fun projects, but due to both scheduling conflicts and the desire to be more in control of what we did, we decided to become independent 4-H members.  So, last year, we weren't affiliated with a club, but simply signed up as independents. We received all the same mailings and project/fair information as everyone else, but we set our own goals, schedules and projects and had no monthly commitment. 

This worked pretty well for us last year. Each of the girls chose projects that best suited them. Perusing both our local 4-H website  and the county fair guidebook, the girls found ideas that they were excited about, and the requirements for entering any given project in the fair. Our only problem with the independent route was our haphazard scheduling. We ended up cramming a lot of work into June, in order to be ready for the fair.

To summarize the pros and cons:


Pros of a club for us:

A leader who taught us the 4-H/fair ropes
Experience in formal club proceedings (officers were elected, my girls learned about secretarial duty, note taking, leading a meeting/discussion) 
Planned projects and the creative input of others
New ideas or new avenues for community service

Cons of a club for us: 

Lack of scheduling control
Projects that may not be a priority for us

Pros of Independent Membership: 

Control over schedule and amount of involvement
Ability to choose/focus on areas that the kids are really excited about

Cons of Independent Membership: 

Accountable only to ourselves, which results in procrastination (however, we had the same problem the two years we were in the club, especially since we were constantly redoing projects.)  Obviously, this con is really just dependent on one's level of commitment and prioritization.

Jenn, does this even begin to answer your questions? If not, I promise to post more. Soon. Really.

*****

The best way to find out more about 4-H is to call your local county extention office, or take a look at the national organization's website, which can direct you to the right place.

An Easy Pumpkin Turkey Craft

I am not the Queen of Crafts, but I like to share the easy projects, the ones that make me feel like a Craft Mom, even though I'm actually a wildly poor imitation, as any genuine Craft Mom would tell you. But, whenever I do something that has to be displayed, saved in a file, or makes me think, "Hmmm, I wonder what the kids will consider a respectable time before I can throw this away?" then I can check the following off my to-do list:


___ Adequate Craft Mom Today

The credit for today's idea goes to my great friend, Heather. I first shared it about three years ago, when the memory of Heather's perfect, relaxed, amazing little Girl Scout troop was still fresh in my mind. Anne, Betsy and I loved every idea Heather ever came up with -- she was so creative. A True Craft Mom. 

On to the Easy Craft of the Day: These turkeys were very easy. The head and feathers were glued to craft sticks, and stuck into the pumpkin (I think we used some cutting tools or paring knives to help the girls accomplish that part.) The "bow tie" for Mr. Turkey on the right is raffia and was attached with hot glue. (Don't you love the way I say "hot glue" as if it's a common component of everyday life?)  I think we had some patterns for the head, feathers and hats but the kids were free to make their own, too, I think -- I don't remember for certain (don't you love that kind of detail and confidence in a craft instruction? I'm every bit as helpful as the instructions for some "assembly required" furniture, aren't I?)

Here are a few other pumpkin turkeys that I found:

This one is at Kaboose, has patterns and is very easy.

This one, at Family Fun, is a little more involved.

Here's another easy one.

Now, there's just one little problem. All of our pumpkins already rotted, so Ramona will not be able to do this craft.

Don't tell her what she's missing, okay?

I'll just get some glitter out and we'll call it good.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

My oldest daughter turned 16 last month. Sixteen. As in, "I maybe get to keep her around for a couple more years, but then ...." Yikes. Hey, fellow moms ... all those cliches about the years flying by? They're cliches for a reason.

Betsy made and decorated the birthday cake for her sister, thanks to her newfound skills (a friend of mine taught a cake decorating class for the girls last summer.)

I took Anne and Betsy and two of their best friends out to a fun little coffeehouse for breakfast.  The breakfast plans fell on the same day as our Writing Group, so I said we'd skip the group and head right for the cappuccino. But, much to my delight, none of the girls wanted to cancel it. They took their stories with them and we read them over french toast, coffee and hot chocolate. The only thing lacking in this coffeehouse/writing experience was an appreciative audience snapping their fingers for our compositions. 

*****

Anne-with-an-e and I are reading Fahrenheit 451. Wow. I haven't read this for years, and when I last did (high school?) it certainly didn't resonate with me the way it did this week. I could be heard repeatedly exclaiming, "Wow! Atticus. You've got to read this ... Wow! Listen to this ...." (I get a little predictable when I'm engrossed in a book.)

Of course the book deserves its own post and when I write it, I'll try not to quote so much of it that I violate any copyright laws.

The next bit of prophetic brilliance I want to read with Anne is Brave New World.

*****

Both of my older girls are thoroughly enjoying a video history course we're doing from The Teaching Company.   We will definitely be using more of their stuff.

*****

My SuperMom friend, previously mentioned here, has been keeping our 4-h group busy with a tie-dye apron project (though we all cheated and didn't tie anything -- we sprayed the dye on, so I guess it would be a spray-dye project, which lacks the rhyming quality but produced cute results), and a food packaging session at Kids Against Hunger  and a bread baking class. Even the littlest girls could easily handle the bread recipe -- I'd never done the bread-in-a-bag method before (similar to what you'll find at this link), but it was fun and totally my kind of clean up.

*****

If I were doing a meme that asked, "When was the last time you cried?" I'd have to answer, "Yesterday when I read a letter from my friend, Heather, who wrote to me about her reaction to my Rosary book."  Thank you, Heather, and a return letter to you will be on its way soon.

*****

Poetry Friday

You don't really need me for Poetry Friday when you can just head over to The Writer's Almanac for poetry every day. I'm snatching today's selection from there.

I like it because it reminds me of my own grandfather. Jim. He, too, wore leather slippers and he, too, was meticulous in many ways. I like the quiet smile of this grandfather, and the unspoken connection described here. And I sympathize with the melancholy of the ending -- the fact that people leave us, that extended families have changed and that sometimes something is lost in the gains that come with technology.

Grapefruit

by Ted McMahon

My grandfather got up early to section grapefruit.
I know because I got up quietly to watch.
He was tall. His hairless shins stuck out
below his bathrobe, down to leather slippers.
The house was quiet, sun just up, ticking of
the grandfather clock tall in the corner.

The grapefruit were always sectioned just so,

(Read the entire poem here.)

Dear Spammers,

I don't speak Chinese. Not one little bit. I enjoy our local Chinese restaurant immensely, but that hasn't helped with language acquisition.  If you really want to sell a product, recruit a visitor to your website, or infect a Nebraskan's computer, you're going to have to do it in English. 

Incomprehensibly yours,

Karen

Have you started your Thanksgiving Tree?

You don't know what I'm talking about?

Time to check out the past posts on Thanksgiving Trees:

Here.

And here.

Have fun being grateful!

They just don't have the same ring

I was working on a piece of writing in which I refer to Mary as "Our Lady." I hit the "proofread" option in Pages and it kindly offered the following possible alternatives:

Our Woman
Our Person
Our Individual

Huh.

Somehow, Our Individual of Guadalupe just doesn't do it for me.

Poetry Friday: The Blue Robe

This is a sweetly captivating poem by Wendell Berry, a man who clearly knows what true marital love is.

Have a lovely Friday!

The Blue Robe 

by Wendell Berry

How joyful to be together, alone

as when we first were joined

in our little house by the river

long ago, except that now we know

each other, as we did not then;

and now instead of two stories fumbling

to meet, we belong to one story

that the two, joining, made. And now

Read the rest here.

Don't Panic, But Advent is 24 Days Away

Yup.

I'm still wiping Halloween chocolate from my chin, but the season of preparation approaches.

Amazing, isn't it, how time just keeps happening? Sometimes I wish it would cut that out, but since we can't fight it we might as well plan for it.

Here's a link to my No-Panic Advent series (the posts are in reverse order.)

Start not panicking now.

You've got it all under control. You're the Donna Reed of the liturgical year, right? So, go grab that file you started last Advent.

A Homeschooler's Peer Pressure

From my now-16-year-old
Anne
with
an
e:





"Hey, Betsy! Homeschooling peer pressure: I dare you to use the word 'indigenous' in a sentence."

The Feast of All Souls

Why do we bother?

Why do we pray for the dead?

First of all, because they are not really "gone." They're elsewhere, certainly, but their souls have not ceased to exist. They can benefit from our prayers.

But they've gone to heaven or to hell, haven't they?

Some have gone to hell, yes, sadly. Some -- martyrs, and those who in some other way have been thoroughly cleansed on this earth, and babies and young children  -- have gone straight to heaven.  But the rest of us need a bath.

That's how I've always explained purgatory to my children. It's the bath we take -- the bath we'll want to take -- before we enter the Gates.

It's an explanation that works for a very young child, but also makes eminent sense to an adult. We die stained still by sin. We need a good scrubbing, don't we?

I ask my children to imagine a couple of different scenes: One is a day on which they stay indoors and read a good book.  Not much effort in the tub that night. A bath is perfunctory. They could almost skip it and go straight to bed. But, wash your face at least, eh?

On another day, they play outside. In the mud. It spatters everywhere. And they're out for hours, so there are layers of muck and mess. That bath is going to take quite a bit longer, isn't it?

Then I explain that the sins on our soul when we die are like the dirt at the end of the day. How much dirt is there? How long will it take to get it off? How much soap will it require? And isn't it time to scrub away that scab on my knee? 

When we consider that final bath, it helps us to examine how much effort we're putting forth in life to get clean and to stay clean. How long and involved do we want that bath of purgatory be?

C.S. Lewis first illustrated this point for me when he said:

Of course I pray for the dead. The action is so spontaneous, so all but inevitable, that only the most compulsive theological case against it would deter me. And I hardly know how the rest of my prayers would survive if those for the dead were forbidden. At our age the majority of those we love best are dead. What sort of intercourse with God could I have if what I love best were unmentionable to him?


On the traditional Protestant view, all the dead are damned or saved. If they are damned, prayer for them is useless. If they are saved, it is equally useless. God has already done all for them. What more should we ask? But don’t we believe that God has already done and is already doing all that He can for the living? What more should we ask? Yet we are told to ask.


"Yes," it will be answered, "but the living are still on the road. Further trials, developments, possibilities of error, await them. But the saved have been made perfect. They have finished the course. To pray for them presupposes that progress and difficulty are still possible. In fact, you are bringing in something like Purgatory."


Well, I suppose I am . . . 

I believe in Purgatory . . . 

Mind you, the Reformers had good reasons for throwing doubt on the "Romish doctrine concerning Purgatory" as that Romish doctrine had then  become ... The right view returns magnificently in Newman's Dream. There, if I remember it rightly, the saved soul, at the very foot of the throne, begs to be taken away and cleansed. It cannot bear for a moment longer "With its darkness to affront that light." Religion has reclaimed Purgatory.

Our souls demand purgatory, don’t they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, "It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy"? Should we not reply, "With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I’d rather be cleaned first." 

"It may hurt, you know" —

"Even so, sir."

~~ from Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer

Today, we'll say some prayers for all the departed.  And we'll think and pray about where and how we need to be cleansed while we're still here.

And we will thank our God, Who is so kind and so loving that He offers and allows us what our souls demand.

Ramona, Lunch Nazi

Ramona played at a friend's house the other day, and the mom reported the following:

Ramona watched in awe as her five-year-old friend, who is just mastering things such as buttering her own bread, put a rather large amount of the stuff on her slice.

"You're gonna die soon," Ramona stated matter-of-factly.

"What?" asked the poor, innocent child.

"All that butter is going to clog your arteries and then you'll have a heart attack and then you'll die soon."

We are so sorry, Poor Innocent Child, that your friend Ramona has middle-aged parents.

I'm at CatholicMom.com today!

Visit the wonderful Lisa Hendey and her Catholic Book Spotlight today for an interview about The Rosary: Keeping Company with Jesus and Mary.

We talk about the book, my conversion, and about prayer and busy lives.

Thank you, Lisa, for a great discussion and for your kind words about the book!

All Hallow's Eve Approacheth!

Sunday is All Saints Day!  I love the feast of All Saints, because it fills me with hope.

On All Saints, we feel the power of inclusion in this great cloud of witnesses ... we experience the hope and anticipation of one day joining them in God's presence.

And about All Hallow's Eve?

Well, for the record, we're a family that does Halloween.

It's become quite the Daddy-daughter thing over the years. Atticus and the girls plot out the best candy routes (amidst much giggling.) I emphasize the Catholic roots and connections (we also read about "souling" or "soul caking") and we often refer to the day as "All Hallow's Eve" rather than "Halloween" to reinforce what it really is.

We talk about both All Saints and All Souls Day as they approach, and we discuss why we don't want to do evil-looking costumes. We plan our evening around Mass, first and foremost.

And then we have the chocolate-related fun.

Post-Mass, the kids don their costumes. And yes, I'll go in my usual costume: I dress up as a homeschooling mom, but no one ever guesses what I am.  We often trick-or-treat at the local convent -- the sisters love to have visitors, and it's especially fun to see the elderly sisters take such joy in children.

Then, we execute The Plan:  Candy Galore. Door to door, neighbors we know, family fun.  For several years now (thanks for the idea, Fr. Dunne) the kids have said,  "Thank you! God bless you!" to everyone and the reactions range from delight or surprise to odd looks. Anne-with-an-e, of course, has gotten too old for trick-or-treating, so she helps me hand out candy while Atticus leads the Chocolate Brigade down the street.

And, yes, we eat lots of candy. I let them eat it for breakfast the next day and I rarely give any of it away or complain that it causes cavities. We just enjoy it. That's what feast days are for, as noted in this fun article by Jeffrey Tucker.

One year, Ramona observed, "You can never have too much candy."

I replied, "Well, sometimes you can have too much at a time, but ...."

"But," Ramona said solemnly, "you can never own too much candy."

Not on All Saints Day anyway. It is indeed a day to celebrate.

And, just for fun, here's a virtual pumpkin to carve  (h/t, from a couple years ago, to Danielle Bean.)

Poetry Friday

Months and months (or was it years? After 2,000 posts, one forgets ....) ago, a little writing exercise called "I Am From" circulated through certain circles of the blogosphere.

It was a fill-in-the-blank affair ("Name a place here ...") and though I no longer have the original form on which this was based, I have here my version of "I Am From." I should admit that I remember taking liberties with the form -- my apologies to the form police if they should happen by. 

And, does anyone know whence "I Am From" came? If you do, please leave a comment and I'll add a link crediting the originator.  I'd like to do something similar with the girls in our writing group, and I want to find the "fill in the blank" form that was originally used. 

 I Am From

I am from knee socks,
Hostess cupcakes
and black patent leather shoes
worn home from the store.

I am from coast to coast,
from everywhere
and nowhere,
the child of a pilot and his bride.
I am from base housing,
plain vanilla walls
and Barbie clothes sewn from Thailand’s silk.

I am from hollyhock dolls and walking to school,
from dandelion bouquets,
from Alaskan glaciers
and from the sun rising on a Florida coast.

I am from summer car trips
to Grandma and Grandpa's,
with stops at Lookout Mountain
and the Truman Museum.
I am from staid New England stock,
from Indiana folks,
from John and Norma,
Madeline and Jim.
I am from lightning bugs in the backyard
and the sleepy scent of Noxzema.

I am from “Be polite” and
“Do your best,”
and “Goodnight, John-boy”
at bedtime,
from “I’m rubber, you’re glue,”
and from “Nuh-uh is not a word.”

I am from a squishy pillow at the drive-in,
and a six-year-old’s delight in the
dark, safe cocoon of the car.

I am from Santa Claus
and Easter eggs,
dinnertime grace,
and prayers
that faded away.

I am from Germany,
Scotland,
from home cooked meals,
doll-cakes on my birthday,
and home-sewn clothes
that made me proud of my mother’s skill.

From Grandma, who thought I loved peas
because I gobbled them up
(to get rid of them),
and from Grandpa, who convinced me
that a signal tower
was his own private Christmas tree.
I am from my grandmother’s way
of smearing butter on a scraped knee,
and taking me to “the groc'ry”
no matter what store it was.

I am from Mom, who decorated
the house for every holiday,
and took us blueberry hunting by the creek;
from Dad, who told me that thunder
was giants bowling in the sky,
and whose hand holding mine
was all I saw of him at the airport
when he came home from a year in Korea.

I am from Air Force brats
bonding
through a shared, strange life,
from a 1960s family who taught me
without words
that “skin color” meant nothing
and “human being” meant everything.

I am from nomads,
from possibilities, and from imagination.

I am from a longing for roots, found finally, and only, in God.

*****

Jennie at Biblio File has the round up today.

Well, I knew THAT

Ramona: That was hysterical!

Me: What's hysterical?

Ramona: It means really funny, Mommy.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Last week we visited the local pumpkin patch. It was bittersweet for me. When we first discovered this place, it made for a very sweet family outing. Yes, other people knew about it, but the place wasn't overly commericalized. Visiting meant leisurely strolls, participating in a few simple activities, and buying our pumpkins for jack-o-lanterns. It was pastoral. Over the years, the place has grown up and become more commercially savvy and as "attractions" have increased, my enjoyment has decreased. It doesn't feel quite like the same place for Ramona as it was for Anne and Betsy. We still had a fun day, but overall, the experience made me want to escape to the woods we visited last summer:
















*****

My friend, J., who would deny the label "Super Mom" but who will be thus labeled by me anyway, has started a new 4-H group for us.

Yes, yes, I know. Last summer, I was prepared to bribe my children to keep them away from the (as another friend calls it) cult of 4-H. But this year will be different.

You may now imagine that my eyes are glazed over, in perfect Stepford Wife Style, and that I'm chanting, "This year will be different ... this year will be different ... this year will be different ...."

But, it will. Really. Uh-huh.

Because we're focusing on food, and I can do food. I'm no Next Food Network Star, but I have faith that my deep and lasting interest in food will carry me through this cult year. Hey, I even have a food label on this blog, proving that I know how to eat. Plenty, mister.

And some things, I actually do pretty well (which continues to surprise me to this day) and sometimes my passion in the kitchen even results in poetry.  Not that I'll be serving an addictive substance to the 4-H group, but I'll definitely have a few cups before we meet. And that always helps.

*****

I was sick yesterday. Down-for-the-count-couldn't-go-to-Mass-stayed-in-pajamas-didn't-go-to-the-free-dinner-at-church sick. But, I feel amazingly better today.

And the Yankees won. So, Atticus is a very happy man.

A dip into the archives: "When They're Older ...."

I wrote this about three years ago and I was reminded of it when a blog friend recently asked about it. It seems fitting to run it again, with my oldest child poised to turn 16 within a week. When I first reran this post, I said:

"I thought of how the last thirteen [now sixteen -- yikes] years have raced past us, so full and so rich. And I thought of the times I have squandered 'this moment' ..." 

I think we moms need to regularly remind ourselves to hang on to "this moment."

So, today, enjoy the moment. Every moment. Even the less than perfect ones. They won't be back, y'know.

*****

I got to thinking about something last night, just after I settled a dispute between Anne-with-an-e and Betsy (or was it between Betsy and Ramona? Or had Ramona been annoying Anne? Ahem. You get the picture.) I was tired, and when one is tired, even the littlest irritations loom large. A few tiny disagreements suddenly feel like near-constant bickering, picking-on, finger-pointing and tattling. Oh, my, the behavior of children. I mean, it's so ... immature.

I felt a little overwhelmed (did I mention I was tired? So much depends on a good night's sleep ....) Yes, I thought, this is the stage of life at which I'm currently parked:

My children are walking, talking, reasoning (mostly), sharp little tacks who constantly delight me but are also capable of draining my mental energy. They're all quite verbose (wonderfully, exquisitely so on the good days and "Do-you-ever-stop-talking?!" on the bad) and that's what can get me. It's not a physical exhaustion, but it can feel so. It's mental fatigue: the dragging of a mind forced to think of 17 different ways to say, "Be kinder," the sluggish tongue that must -- one more time -- wrap itself around the words, "Go tell your sister you're sorry. And please don't ever do that to her again when she's in the shower." It's the ambushed brain that can't take one more joke that involves body parts or functions.

This is where we are, I thought. But when they're older ....

"Uh-oh, stop right there, missy," I told myself. "Don't start playing, 'When they're older,' because it's a lose-lose proposition."

"When they're older" is the trap that entices you to long for a different stage of life. I've sometimes fallen into it, but it's not a good place to live. Because, you see, if I live my entire life in the "When They're Older" trap, before I know it, they'll be older. And they'll be gone.

It goes something like this, looking back to infancy:

When she's older, she won't wake me up every night.

(But she also won't coo and gurgle in that delicious way. She won't linger at nursing and enclose me in her eyes, telling me I'm her reason for being.)

When she's older, I won't need to carry her everywhere and then my back won't ache all the time.

(She also won't be portable enough to be cuddled, held and snuggled no matter where we are or what we're doing. She won't fit neatly into one arm and I won't be able to scoop her up to celebrate that she just mastered skipping.)

When she's older, I won't have to listen to "Why? Why? Why?" all the time.

(She also won't have that same awed look on her face that she got when she saw her first penguin at the zoo. She won't study caterpillars and ants for extended periods and she won't be delighted by pointing out water towers, having just learned what they are. She won't have that squeaky voice that personifies "ironic" when she says "Awwwww, look at that babeeee! He's so cuuuuute!")

When she's older, I won't have to listen to body function humor.

(Well, I can just keep hoping on this one.)

When she's older, she won't pick on her sister. She'll be too mature for that.

(And she'll be too mature to sit on my lap, play hide-n-seek, wear her hair in ponytails, jump rope, get that incredible shine in her eyes when she kicks a soccer ball and she'll no longer be more delighted by my company than anyone else's in the world. She'll have discovered there are other things and other people who are important to her.)

When she's older, she won't be so moody.

(Oh, wait. That's a woman-thing. That'll continue. That's okay.)

I've always found "When They're Older" to be counter-productive. Oh, sure, it might seem to comfort me at the time (and don't get me wrong, there's a place for the "This too shall pass" philosophy) but most of the time, "When They're Older" is the opposite of comforting -- it's agitating. It forces us to live in and for the future. And when we do that, we miss so much of today. This Moment.

Rather, I must embrace that my children are just that. Children. They're going to be childish. And my sometimes-ambushed brain has to shore up to take one more joke, one more poor choice, one more tattle. I have to remind myself that bad days make it feel as if this happens all the time, but I know that it doesn't. Because on the same day there's been tattling, a poor choice and a joke that only a daddy can appreciate, there have also been cuddles and hugs and beaming looks of love. There have been discussions that run deeper than I thought a ten-year-old could handle and insights so moving that I've gotten a glimpse at the woman my daughter will become. There have been tea parties and read-alouds, girl-talk and cookies in the oven.

There has been the delight of "I'm so glad they're this age. I'm so glad for now. I'm so blessed by today. I'm so in love with this moment."

Today, I won't fall into the "When They're Older" trap. When they're older, they'll certainly be more mature.

But they won't be here.

And I'll miss them. So very, very much.

Poetry Friday: In which Atticus discusses his recent encounter with a rabid skunk

Atticus recently sent me this email, summarizing his morning at work.  This is an exact reproduction of his note, other than the fact that I'm presenting it in free verse form.


Subject: Can't You Smell That Smell?

Teach long enough and you will see everything.

This morning there was a rabid skunk

outside the door

just outside my room.

It was walking around in a tight circle,

occasionally falling over,

and just, in general,

stumbling along in a daze.

Eventually, the police came up

and shot the deranged rodent.

It had already filled the halls

with that peculiar rural piquance

that is so utterly charming.

The entire school, thereby, is redolent

with a certain bucolic "freshness."

Upon being shot, the animal

delivered a benedictory blast,

and we shall,

therefore,

have to live with the memory

of the beast

for some time to come.

Ah, wilderness.

I think it sounds a little like Billy Collins, don't you? Is it any wonder I love Billy? He reminds me of my husband.

Poetry Friday can be found today at Big A little a.

Books for sensitive girls

A friend and I recently talked about finding books for sensitive young girls (ages 7-10) that aren't scary, creepy, sad, prematurely mature, or too simple. 

It's hard to be a technically skilled reader who loves nothing more than to settle in with a good chapter book but to also be a sensitive soul who knows that the joys of footie pajamas and snuggling with Fluffy Bunny are not to be missed.

We  talked about Beverly Cleary, Eleanor Estes, and Paddington Bear.  

Chapter books with heart and innocence.

More suggestions, anyone?

Quote for a Wednesday

I know I said I have no time for reading, but honestly, that's like saying I don't have time to breathe or drink coffee.

So.

I'm reading Mark Shea's Mary, Mother of the Son, and oh, how I love that man's writing.

Such as:

Thinking about Mary's referred life also started me thinking about how many other people in my life Jesus came through to get to me. He came to me, for instance, through my Evangelical friend, Sandy, who brought me Pepto-Bismol when I was desperately sick with flu in college, thereby making this unbeliever first notice the love of Jesus working through one of his saints.

He goes on to list the many people who had an effect on his conversion, and adds:

In fact, the more I looked at it, the more it seemed to me that God virtually always comes to us through some creature. And when he does that, some glow of his glory is left on the creature, like the radiance on Moses' face (cf. Ex. 34:29-35). But at the same time it remains clear the glory is God's, not something the creature could claim for himself.

Beautiful. I just bought this trilogy last month, and I hope to get a real review/reaction written up when I finish it, but for now I'll just say that I've always thought that reading Shea is a lot like reading C.S. Lewis for me -- he's accessible and funny, and honest and a true lover of God whose conversion was hard won.

Excuse me now while I go breathe and drink coffee.

She's So Sane

Don't you love the Love2Learn Mom?

Check out this post: "How Do You Do It All?" for a little bit of quick wisdom.

And that one reminded me of this very quick, very wise little Latin reminder from Alicia, too, to "do what you're doing."

Now, I'm off to do what I'm doing today, and to stick to it.

Well, that's very different

Betsy: I saw a show -- Dad was watching it -- where a boa constrictor ate an alligator whole.


Ramona: No! I don't believe it!


Betsy: Yes! It's true. Ask Dad. I saw it.

Ramona: Nuh-uh! No way!

Betsy: Yes! Tell her, Mom. A boa constrictor can eat a --

Ramona: O-o-oh! A boa constrictor! I thought you said a construction worker. 



(photo thanks to stock.xchng)

Don't Be Afraid of the Cayenne

In the hot cocoa mix, that is.

We approve.

As a matter of fact, Ramona said this morning, "Alton should start another new show: 'Good Drinks.'"






(photo courtesy of Stock.xchng)

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Recent Reading: 
I got half way through Michael Pollan's  The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals before I had to return it to the library, so I'll reserve lengthy comments until I pick it up again and finish it. My impressions so far?  a.) It's fascinating, and b.) I'm completely unqualified to comment on the intricacies of our food systems.

Ultimately, most things in my life keep coming back to a comment I once made at Jennifer's blog: I want Walden Pond and a laptop.  Can you say cognitive dissonance? 

The older girls and I read The Mysterious Benedict Society by Trenton Lee Stewart, and we loved it. Lots of fun, surprises, suspense, silliness, and heart.  Highly recommended.

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins -- I have to say that my first reaction to the premise was very much like Lissa's.  I plucked this book off the shelf at the library, read the jacket flap, shuddered, thought, "No, thank you," and put it back.  Then I read Lissa's post (linked above) and saw that her first reaction was also surprise (that something so dark was classified as YA literature) but that in the end, she loved it. I decided to give it a chance. I raced through the book in a day or two (and, mind you, I have no time to read right now) and loved it. Powerful. Well written and executed. The girls haven't read it yet -- we're still deciding if my sensitive daughters even want to read this one right now. Lots of fodder for great discussion, though -- terrific social and cultural commentary.

*****

Recent Talking: 

I gave a little witness talk about Mary at an RCIA session yesterday. I rambled too much, but hopefully something somewhere was what someone needed. You never really know, and just have to trust God to help you hit the mark.

*****

Recent Writing: 

I started a writing group for the girls and a couple of their friends, and we're really enjoying it. We get together here and they share their latest pieces. They read them aloud and then we take time for comments and discussion. We're planning a coffeehouse outing soon, combining writing group with a birthday celebration. I love homeschooling.

I'm at work on a project and am under a deadline, so my next Bits and Pieces post may be only Bits.

She's So Accommodating

Ramona: Mommy! Ask why I'm running! 
Me: Why are you running? 
Ramona (points to mail from Nebraska Public Radio): It says Immediate Action Requested!

Poetry Friday: Let Evening Come

The older I get, the more acutely I am aware of the passing of the seasons,
the passing of time,
and the passing of all things.

And so, I was moved by this short poem by Jane Kenyon who, it seems, never fails to move me.



Let Evening Come

by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear

(read the rest of the poem here.)

Laura Salas has the Poetry Friday round up today.

Blunt Talk to God

Teresa of Avila is credited with having said the following to the Lord, during a particularly trying experience:

"If this is how You treat Your friends, it is not surprising that You have so few of them."

I love her.

Other favorites from St. Teresa: 

"Remember that you have only one soul; that you have only one death to die; that you have only one life ... If you do this, there will be many things about which you care nothing." (Emphasis mine.)

*****
"Do not be dismayed daughters, at the number of things which you have to consider before setting out on this divine journey, which is the royal road to heaven. By taking this road we gain such precious treasures that it is no wonder if the cost seems to us a high one. The time will come when we shall realize that all we have paid has been nothing at all by comparison with the greatness of our prizes."
 
*****

"Oh my Lord! How true it is that whoever works for you is paid in troubles! And what a precious price to those who love you if we understand its value."

*****

"God, deliver me from sullen saints."

*****


Let nothing trouble you
Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes
God never changes
Patience obtains all
Whoever has God wants for nothing
God alone is enough

*****

Great books:
Interior Castle
The Way of Perfection
Fr. Thomas Dubay's Fire Within

Have a blessed feast day!

The Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Gian Lorenzo Bernini

Today's Spiritual Wisdom Brought to You by Ramona

The other day we were looking for something in Ramona's room. I can't even remember what it was, but I remember feeling quite frustrated because, "It was right here a minute ago!"

As we searched and my frustration mounted, Ramona had this little gem to contribute to the moment:

"Well, Mommy," she said, "sometimes God just has to confinscate something."

I stopped and looked at her. "You're right," I said, laughing. "Sometimes He does. And sometimes we have no idea why.  But He always has His reasons, doesn't He?"

"Yes," she said, as she calmly returned to the hunt for the missing thing.

And so, today's takeaway thought is that: 

Whether it makes sense or seems absurd, God always has His reasons when He chooses to confiscate something. 

Whether you can pronounce it or not.

Ramona employs Food Network-Speak

While dining on graham crackers with peanut butter and honey, Ramona observed:

"I love the way the tastes of the peanut butter and the honey linger together for awhile ...."

And, by the way, I've ruined her for the store brand hot chocolate mix. "It just doesn't taste right," she said the other day. It's Alton's recipe or nothing for this girl.

Two Things that Always Help Me

A long time ago, my spiritual director suggested that I ask myself a question any time I'm feeling distant from God, or anxious about something, or adrift in any way in my faith. The simple question is:

"What am I doing differently?"

In other words, I stop and assess what was going on, what I was doing, and what shape my prayer life was in when I felt peaceful and close to God. And, what am I doing differently now?

At various times, since becoming a Catholic, the answers have been things like this:

"I'm not reading Scripture and I used to do it every day."
"I haven't been praying the Rosary."
"I stopped praying the Liturgy of the Hours."
"I'm not starting my day with prayer."
"I'm watching too much HGTV."

Anyway.

I can always pinpoint something.  And it always comes back to my prayer life, in some form.  If I'm not communicating with God, how can I be close to Him? How can I trust Someone I never talk to?

Which brings me to the second thing.

Trusting in the following phrase is one of the most important things I can do in my faith life:

"The Lord will provide."

Another long time ago, the same spiritual director was around when I had a miscarriage. I'd had miscarriages before, but this was the first time I was going through it with Anne and Betsy around.  I was falling apart, and although I was trying to hide it from my girls, my poor Anne, at age five, was too smart for her own good. She connected a lot of dots and in no time she was grieving, too, because she's not only smart, she's a very sensitive soul.

I thought I'd reached my breaking point that week when my priest emailed four simple words: "The Lord will provide."

I stared at the screen.

The Lord will provide.

The Lord.

He will provide.

I didn't know how, I didn't know what His provision would look like, and on a rational level I didn't see how anything was going to change any time soon. But, on a deeper level, at the level of my soul and in the core of my being, I knew that my priest was right. The Lord will provide.

I return to those words again and again. They're so simple but they pack a powerful punch. They help me to take a deep breath, step back from whatever stress or difficulty is pulling me away from God, and then remind myself that I am loved with a providential love that is beyond my ability to fathom.

Two things I make myself live by:

Regularly ask, "What am I doing differently?"  Answer that question, and make the necessary adjustments.

Remember, always remember: "The Lord will provide."

Margaret is Giving Away Five Copies of my Rosary Book

Thanks to someone who is quite kind and very generous, Minnesota Margaret is now giving away five copies of my Rosary book.

You can leave a comment at Margaret's original post to enter the contest.

Thanks to Margaret, to the anonymous donor of books, and to everyone who has shown interest in and support for this book! May the Rosary, and all the prayers of our Blessed Mother, enrich your lives in every way.

*****

Updated to add:

Even if you don't care to enter the contest, you should go read all the comments on this post.  Beautiful, inspiring stories from so many different people, sharing their experiences or struggles with the Rosary.  Worth your reading time, I promise.

Poetry Friday: Poetry for Teens

No, not poetry that's written especially for teens.

And not poetry that's about teens.

Poetry resources for teens. Because we all need solid resources in order to dive into something new, and isn't it lovely when someone collects those resources and puts them all in one place?

Poets.org tells us, in this introduction to their "Poetry Resources for Teens" page, that:

The Academy of American Poets developed the teen homepage in response to a recent survey they conducted, which showed that over 75% of the people who use Poets.org share one characteristic: that they first developed an interest in poetry before their eighteenth birthday.

Poets.org has given us a treasure chest to crack open with our teenagers.

"Poetry 101" covers basics with a surprising and satisfying amount of depth: ideas about how to read a poem, lists of recommendations and influential books, various forms and techniques. There are pages for "Poems Teens Like" and "Writing Help."

Poetry on the page (like poetry in the world) ranges from light and funny, to serious, introspective and disturbing. Classic and contemporary both make an appearance. It's a rich mix.

Better start sifting through the jewels in that chest -- so many gems to hold up to the light, to turn and examine, to assess.

We could spend an entire school year on these pages, digging into the details of these poems, poets and forms. And we might.

Because, really, isn't that what poetry is?

Digging in to the details of life. 

Today's Poetry Friday round up is at Anastasia Suen's Picture Book of the Day.

Win a copy of The Rosary book

The ever lovely Margaret at Minnesota Mom was far too kind to me today in her post about my Rosary book.

Now, she is kindly giving away a copy of the book. Go to Margaret's place and leave a comment before Saturday, the 10th to be entered in the drawing. 

And thank you, Margaret, for such a lovely and touching post! 

Our Lady of the Rosary

"Christ is the supreme Teacher, the revealer and the one revealed. It is not just a question of learning what he taught but of 'learning him'. 

In this regard could we have any better teacher than Mary? From the divine standpoint, the Spirit is the interior teacher who leads us to the full truth of Christ (cf. Jn 14:26; 15:26; 16:13). But among creatures no one knows Christ better than Mary; no one can introduce us to a profound knowledge of his mystery better than his Mother."

-- Venerable Pope John Paul II, Rosarium Virginis Mariae

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

I can't let autumn go by without running my favorite seasonal quote:

"What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon?" cried Daisy, "and the day after that, and the next thirty years?"

"Don't be morbid," Jordan said. "Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall."

~~ F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 


And so life is starting over, with fall routines, crisp weather and the realization that we still have too many summer clothes out. And Ramona has outgrown her fall/winter church shoes. Sigh.

"Don't be morbid, Karen ... you know where the nearest Target is."

******

Betsy started violin lessons. The teacher is sweet and wonderful and Betsy loves her already. I'm looking forward to hearing Bach in my living room soon. Or "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star."

*****

Anne-with-an-e is having some oral surgery this week. Urgh. Ugh. Arrgh. I'll be glad when it's over. I want life for my children to be perfect, always perfect. But, as they always remind me -- because I taught them so -- nothing on this earth is perfect. And that's why we have prayer and hope. And chocolate. And Bach. To keep pointing us to Perfection.

Poetry Friday: We're all writers here today

I used to post Richard Wilbur's The Writer about every four months. Then it stretched out to eight months.

It's been eight and a half months since the last posting, and today I'm starting a Writers' Group for my daughters and a couple of friends, so clearly, it's time for:

The Writer
by Richard Wilbur

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,

....

Read the rest of this perfect poem here ... listen to it here. And, for an interview with Richard Wilbur, go here, to the Poetry Foundation.

Find the Poetry Friday round up at Crossover today. 

A Different Kind of Rose from St. Therese?

You tell me.

This morning, I got out an old book, a little novena booklet called Welcome, Jesus: A First Communion Preparation. Ramona, you see, is preparing for her First Holy Communion, and I wanted to use this book with her, just as I'd used it with Betsy. 

This got Betsy reminiscing this morning. "I loved that little book," she said. "I took it with me to Mass  for the longest time. I used it for the 'Prayer Before Holy Communion' and for the 'Prayer After Communion' every week. But, the 'After Communion' page got torn out and lost a long time ago. Where did it ever go, I wonder?"

We all wondered. Was it with our other First Holy Communion materials? No. I looked at them this morning, and it was not there. We talked about the Anima Christi and what a beautiful post-Communion prayer that one is, and then we recited it together.  I also made a mental note to add either the Anima Christi or another suitable prayer for Ramona to the back of this well worn, well loved little booklet.

Then, we left the house and we were gone all day with activities, returning at about 5:15. I unloaded some groceries, and walked over to the computer.  And, do you know what was lying on the floor next to the computer?

The missing page from the book.  Here's a picture I snapped of it:

I assure you I have no idea how it got there, or where it's been for the last several years.

But, I do know that I will be adding it back into the very special, very sweet, and now never-forgotten little book, "Welcome, Jesus."

A quote from St. Therese on her feast day

"The only happiness here below is to strive to be always content with what Jesus gives us."

A St. Therese story from our past:

In the spring of ’98 my spiritual director suggested that he and I both pray to Thérèse of Lisieux for my husband's conversion. "Look for a sign of roses," Fr. Joe told me. About a month later, Atticus and I were sitting in the back yard of our house. We’d bought the house the previous summer, and he was still hard at work getting the yard in shape. That week he’d been cutting and chopping things with a vengeance. As we sat there that evening, he glanced toward a bush close to the house.


"Well, look at that," he said. "It’s a rose bush."


My heart nearly stopped. He continued, "I almost chopped it down the other day. I didn’t know what it was. I don’t know what stopped me, but for some reason, I thought I should leave it there." 

I looked at the pink roses blooming near our house, and said a silent prayer, thanking Thérèse for the bloom of encouragement. When Fr. Joe came to dinner the following week, Thérèse’s roses graced the dinner table.

What's Been Working Around Here, re: Food

* Some recipes from Just Tell Me What to Cook, such as Orange Rosemary Chicken, which was a hit with the whole family. Ramona didn't even ask for a peanut butter sandwich.  I liked the Chicken with Lime-Ginger Sauce, but the kids found it a little heavy on the lime, so I'll cut back next time.

* Crock Pot Lasagna:  A friend mentioned this recently, so I Googled for a recipe. Yes, you really throw uncooked pasta in the crock pot. I didn't have lasagna noodles, so I used spiral pasta, and I left out the ricotta. The recipe says one hour on high, and five hours on low, but I think I could have cut that back to about three hours on low (however, we were out for the afternoon, so I wasn't home to check on it.)  It was overdone, but the kids still loved it.

* Melissa's Roasted Broccoli  with Parmesan:  so simple, so good

* Couscous:  everyone loves it. Except Ramona.

* Meal planning:  As much as I hate to admit it (and do it), life is immeasurably easier when I plan meals. My tortured relationship with meal planning has been chronicled:

Meal Planning, Schmeal Planning
An Update to Meal Planning, Schmeal Planning
Another Reason to Love My Husband

And I expect the tortured relationship to continue. And so goes life in the fallen nature and fallen kitchen of Karen.

Two things guaranteed to make my day better

1. Get myself ready for the day before the kids get up.

This makes a huge difference for me. Huge. If I'm behind on this, I feel behind on everything.  Atticus gets up first (which I admit makes it easier for me) but then I'm next ... I drag myself out of bed, head straight to the shower, and then have time to get a couple things done (and a cup or two of coffee) before I wake up the girls. Then, everything -- really, everything -- goes so much better for me. For us. 

St. Josemaria Escriva said:

The heroic minute. It is the time fixed for getting up. Without hesitation: a supernatural reflection and... up! The heroic minute: here you have a mortification that strengthens your will and does no harm to your body.

I'm no hero, but I know that, for me, it's a mortification I need. That may not be true for everyone, or for every schedule, or every homeschooling household. But it helps me. 

And, please, please, please remember, if you are tempted to compare anything with anything, I'm in this season of life: kids who are 15, 13 and 7.  No baby, no toddler, no pregnancy here ... you get me, don't you?  If you've been up all night with the baby, nothing about "getting up before the kids" applies to you.  Go catch a nap.

2. The Liturgy of the Hours

This is one of the things I get done before the kids are awake. 


From today's Morning Prayer:

When I found your words, I devoured them; they became my joy and the happiness of my heart, Because I bore your name, O LORD, God of hosts. ~~ Jeremiah 15:16


I started praying the Liturgy of the Hours a couple of years after becoming a Catholic. (I would have bet all three of my children that I've written extensively about the Liturgy of the Hours before on this blog. But, I just did a search and I cannot find a thing. How is that possible?)

It was the Office of Readings that really captured me -- both the Psalms and the second reading of the day (usually some treasure from one of the fathers of the Church.)

Back when my spiritual director was a priest here in our parish (he has since moved away) he mentioned the Liturgy of the Hours at an RCIA meeting (I was on the team at the time.)  I had never heard of it, but he talked about "praying in rhythm with the Church," and I thought, "Hmm ... that's intriguing." The next time I met with him, I asked about it and he showed me what it was, and how to use it.  I fell in love with it, and especially with the richness of the Office of Readings.  I didn't think the full set of books (rather pricey) was within grasp, so for awhile I used the free, online version at Universalis.com.  (Note that Universalis doesn't use the official Catholic translation, but it was still a nice way for me to break into using the prayers while I looked at other option.) Then, Atticus bought me set for my birthday/Mother's Day that year. Oh, I love that man.

It took a bit of time to learn how to navigate through the books, the ribbons, the feast days and Solemnities. I remember having Father over for dinner shortly after Atticus gave me the books and I said, "I am loving the Liturgy of the Hours!" and Father said, "So, you know that today is the feast of Charles Lwanga and Companions!" and I said, "Ummm ... no. Who?"

So, he gave me another navigation lesson and I finally caught on.

I don't pray all of the hours, and I don't do it every day, but I still love the Office and Atticus and I try to start every work day with Morning Prayer together.  It's amazing, fascinating and comforting to me to see how often something in the prayers applies to something that I'm praying, thinking or worrying about. 

I love Night Prayer, too. Every night there is the Nunc Dimittis:

Lord, now let your servant go in peace.
Your Word has been fulfilled:
my own eyes have seen the salvation
which you have prepared in the sight of every people:
a light to reveal You to the nations
and the glory of your people Israel.

And there are various other Scriptures -- this is from Tuesday night prayer:

Stay sober and alert. Your opponent the devil is prowling like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, solid in your faith. ~~  1 Peter 5:8-9

And Evening Prayer gives us the Magnificat:

My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden,
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. 
And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with His arm:
He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree.
He has filled the hungry with good things;
and the rich He has sent empty away.
He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy;
As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His posterity forever.

Riches abound.


Awhile back, Melanie did some marvelous posts about the Liturgy of the Hours that I highly recommend. You can find them here and here (and the second one is full of links, details, recommendations, great stuff.) One other source (I can't remember if Melanie mentioned it)  is The Magnificat.  This little magazine/prayer book is an easy and beautiful way to start.

Like Melanie, I have fallen in and out of use of the Liturgy of the Hours, but I always come back to it. It's an anchor.