Cottage Blessings

The words of St. Catherine Laboure

"Whenever I go to the chapel,
I put myself in the presence
of our good Lord and I say to him,
'Lord, I am here. Tell me what
You would have me do.'

"If he gives me some task,
I am content and I thank him.

"If he gives me nothing,
I still thank him since I do not deserve
to receive anything more than that.

"And then, I tell God everything
that is in my heart.
I tell him about my pains and my joys,
and then I listen.

"If you listen, God will also will also speak to you,
for with the good Lord,
you have to both speak and listen.

"God always speaks to you
when you approach him plainly and simply.

A word from my heart

Starting this coming Monday (if you aren't doing this already), get yourself to daily Mass.  Try to arrive ten minutes early, and offer the Mass for the four intentions we must always remember:  (1) Adoration ("I love you, dear Lord"); (2) Thanksgiving ("I thank Thee for blessings too numerous to mention"); (3) Reparation ("I am truly sorry for my sins and and ask for help in amending my life"); and (4) Impetration ("Dear Lord, send your grace into my heart). Offer the Mass in union with the intentions of the priest, and ask God for one blessed favor--the grace to return to Mass again the next day.

This is what life is all about.

A Book Lover Goes to the Ball

This year, our homeschooling group's annual Winter Formal had a masquerade theme.  Our daughter, Theresa (16), already had a beautiful golden mask saved from our long ago production of Romeo and Juliet.  Margaret (14) crafted her own mask, an intricate maze of loops and points, formed from an unbroken strand of heavy gauge wire and decorated with a jeweled bird bursting free from a metal cage.  Twenty four hours before the dance, Agnes (turning 18 at midnight that night), had no specific plans for her mask.  She knew there were a few stray masks floating around the house, and, if all else failed, plain plastic masks would be given out at the door.

I decided to give her an early birthday present by creating a mask that would match her jeweled purple gown and reflect her personality--beautifully feminine, intellectual, book loving, with a heart that has never grown distant from all the things she loved in childhood.  Here are the steps to making her Secret Garden mask.

Margaret laughed out loud when she saw the mask I purchased as a base for the project:

But I had a method to my madness.  This mask, although garish, was comfortably lined with felt, and it had a good thick band that would hold up better than the thin plastic masks we found all over the craft store. Plus, the cat ears would provide a perfect base for the details that would be added to the top later.

I started with these materials, which were not inexpensive, but this was, after all, an eighteenth birthday present:

A layer of moss applied with hot glue completely covered the cat ears and silver and pink sequins:

I added a stitch or two so that the heavy decorations would not tear the moss away from the mask later:

Then for our theme, starting with a bird at a garden window:

Purple flowers and a butterfly to match Agnes's gown:

And, of course, a set of keys, suitable for turning the rustiest of locks and the most long forgotten garden:

There you have it, The Secret Garden Mask:

But the that is not the best part.  The best part is going out to the hairdresser the morning of the dance and donating a foot of hair to Locks of Love so that your oldest and dearest friends do not recognize you at all.  Agnes said it was like wearing a cloak of invisibility!

 

Me and my shadow

For the Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas

When I was in sixth grade, Father Higuero, one of our parish priests, would come once a week to give our class a special catechism lesson.  Father  did not grade or test, but, on the first day of class in September, he gave one simple assignment: Prepare an oral report on the life of a saint and be ready to speak in front of the class whenever called upon. We students knew it would take the entire school year for each one of us to have a turn.

Now if I had been given a girl saint or perhaps a martyr, this would have been right up my alley, but instead of St. Bernadette, Joan of Arc, or valiant St. Laurence, there fell to my lot St. Thomas Aquinas — priest, philosopher, theologian, doctor of the Church. To say that he did not capture my imagination would be putting it mildly.

By the time Father Higuero returned for our second session, I had forgotten about St. Thomas — and the assignment itself for that matter. As he began scanning the rows of children to choose that week’s speakers, I ducked my head behind the girl in front of me, praying, “Dear St. Thomas Aquinas, please do not let him call on me.” To my great relief, two other children were chosen, and I resolved to be prepared the next time. Week after week this went on, with me always forgetting and my prayers to St. Thomas growing ever more fervent.

One morning late in the school year, Sister Kathy announced, “Father Higuero is coming for the last time today and will arrive in a few minutes. In the meanwhile, please read these magazines quietly to yourselves.” My heart sank to hear her words, for of course this meant there would be no more postponing the inevitable. Miserable, I said one last prayer, “Dear St. Thomas, I know I should have learned about your life and didn’t, but won’t you please help me?” The girl in front of me passed back the stack of religious magazines Sister had mentioned. Imagine my delight and wonder when I caught sight of the headline on the back cover: “The Life of St. Thomas Aquinas.” “Thank you, St. Thomas, thank you!” I whispered so low that none but the saint himself could hear and began reading with the greatest interest imaginable.

Half an hour later, Father Higuero nodded approvingly upon hearing a young girl’s enthusiastic account of the life of St. Thomas Aquinas. Although Father never would learn the truth about what a spur-of-the-moment effort it had been, my guess is that he would have been forgiving and perhaps even a bit pleased. After all, thanks to his priestly guidance and teaching, I had managed to learn something about the life of a great saint. Far more important than that, I came to believe for the rest of my life that St. Thomas Aquinas was my friend.

At this very moment, my eldest daughter is taking two SAT subject tests.  When I realized today was the Feast of St. Thomas Aquinas, I smiled knowing she was in good hands.

 

For Lissa and Aunt Robertine

The continuation of Cottage Blessings is dedicated to my beautiful friend, Lissa, and in loving memory of my favorite blog reader and godmother, Aunt Robertine.  I do not know what will come of this return to blogging, but what I am hoping for is a permanent record of the joys of family life.

First, a major update is in order.  We happily announce the birth of our baby daughter, born just this past April. Here she is with the president and vice-president of her fan club.  The last time I posted here regularly, those two big girls were babies themselves. (That's Maureen on the right and Eileen on the left.)

The cottage door is open.  Thank you so much for coming in.

The balcony

Here is a photo from the balcony scene in The Front Lawn Players' production of Romeo and Juliet.  Did you know there is no balcony written into the original Shakespeare play?  The stage direction calls for Juliet to be at a window.  The famous balcony developed over time and may well be the most famous piece of scenery in all of Shakespeare!
 

Catholic Writers Conference

I had the honor of covering "The Word Made Flesh--A Day for Catholic Writers" for The Long Island Catholic.  Here is the story:

Catholic writers urged to use their talents to spread the faith

HUNTINGTON — More than 100 Catholic writers from all over Long Island and other parts of the country gathered at the Seminary of the Immaculate Conception here last Saturday for an innovative conference entitled, “The Word Made Flesh: A Day for Catholic Writers.” The event offered much hope for anyone who has scanned a library shelf wishing for wholesome literature or read a secular newspaper wondering why the Church as portrayed was so different from the one we know.

The conference was the brainchild of Lisa Mladinich, Catholic educator and author of “Be an Amazing Catechist: Inspire the Faith of Children,” to be released by Our Sunday Visitor in August. She, along with fellow catechist Peggy Clores and Alex Basile, chairman of the religion department of Kellenberg Memorial High School, planned the event to encourage writers to spread the faith and shine the light of truth through the written word. The day was meant not only for established authors, but for anyone who has ever put pen to paper — or fingers to keyboard — in the service of God.

Please click here to read more.

The Front Lawn Players present Romeo and Juliet (Part 1)

Last year, my mother passed away two weeks before The Front Lawn Players' production of As You Like It.  With daughters playing Rosalind, Celia, and Touchstone, there should have been a huge, picture-laden blog post afterward, but you can imagine I did not much feel like blogging at that time.  This year, they performed Romeo and Juliet with Alice (aka Agnes) playing the role of a lifetime.  Here are a few pictures for posterity.  And maybe, just maybe, I will post those As You Like It photos one of these days.

 

Juliet

 

Lady Capulet and the nurse discuss marriage plans for Juliet.

 

Lady Capulet introduces Paris to Juliet.

 

Romeo waits on the sidelines.

 

Juliet's cousin, Tybalt, is not too thrilled to see a Montague at the party.

    

But Lord Capulet doesn't want any trouble.

 

  Poor Paris doesn't stand a chance now.

Please click on the video twice to see the right hand side of the screen.

 
Juliet learns, to her grave dismay, that her love is a Montague.

[More to come, including the famous balcony scene.] 

  

Here and Now: June Long Island Catholic column

Not long ago, I came across a framed picture of the Blessed Mother while cleaning out the basement of my mother’s house. How perfectly I knew every detail of it — the sweet and gentle face of Our Lady, the rays of light streaming from her fingertips, and the snake crushed beneath her feet. When I was growing up, the image hung in my bedroom, but standing there in the dim storage room, my mind raced back to the day I first received it.

Years ago, on one of our family’s trips to Ireland, we stayed in a cottage rented to us by a couple who seemed old to me at the time. The place had everything a child could want, with a gate to swing on, a newborn brood of black kittens, and a friendly dog who trailed me wherever I went.

One evening, my mother and father brought me to a street fair in nearby Killarney. There was a dunking booth and vendors hawking chips with peas and vinegar. Game booths stuffed with prizes stood side by side, and, on the top shelf of one was that beautiful picture of the Blessed Mother. I was smitten and resolved to win it. The couple who rented us the cottage happened by and saw me hard at work. The wife smiled and said, “If you win, you will get that lovely dolly on the top shelf,” but I told her that I was hoping for the Blessed Mother. Do not ask me what the game itself was. It might have been a ring toss or a shooting contest or a game of strength with fat mallets, but the bottom line is that I spent all my pocket money to no avail. 

The next morning, I went out to feed the chickens and pay a visit to my kittens when to my delight the image of Our Lady was waiting for me, propped on a bench outside my door. It turned out the couple stayed after our family left the fair, and the husband played the game until he won my prize. The wife told my mother, “We thought it was so nice that your little girl wanted the picture of Our Lady.” 

Please click here to read more.