Cottage Blessings

A Bundle, a Basket, and a Buche de Noel

When my friend, Mary, invited us over for a potluck supper on the Feast of the Epiphany, we did not know it would turn out to be an evening of wonders, with old-fashioned games, a full-scale Christmas pageant, and even a visit from good St. Nicholas himself. My children and four other families had participated in an art exhibit at a local museum, and the gathering was planned as a way to celebrate afterward.

Here is one of the baskets we brought. Don't you love that Book of Kells tea towel? It was brought home for us from Ireland by my friend, Caroline:

We packed it with all the non-perishable ingredients for a Tea to Celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany [The perishables were toted in a far less photogenic cooler]:

After an afternoon of playing outdoors, the children came in for old-fashioned party games:

My personal favorite was the game of quotes. The children lined up in two teams with words from a famous quote on their backs. The object was to put themselves in the correct order without saying a single word to one another. [First team with the quote in order wins.] Here the girls show the mixed up words to Puck's famous quote, "Lord, what fools these mortals be!":

Next they had a scavenger hunt. All the objects on the list below were hidden in the living and family rooms. As a participant in this particular game, I will tell you they were not easy to find. The items were left in plain view, and the children were asked not to touch anything, so the game did not turn to chaos as it might have otherwise:

With the games completed, my friend Kari brought all the children upstairs to prepare for a beautiful, impromptu Epiphany Pageant, complete with poetry and hyms. They pulled names from a hat to determine roles and came down to perform for the parents.

I was amazed at how quickly they pulled it all together, right down to costumes. Here the parents wait for the performance:

The cast poses after a job well done:

While they were rehearsing, Mary, Caroline, Aleta and I set the table for the Epiphany Tea. You will notice we brought our Christmas pyramid along as a centerpiece. The children loved it, even when one of the candles fell momentarily and started to burn the surrounding wreath:

Here is our hostess Mary's clever take on "Baby Jesus in a Manger" for the Epiphany Tea, homemade gingerbread babes on soft beds of coconut straw:

Kari brought this traditional Buche de Noel:

Aleta made these almond studded jam tarts, a reminder of the host of angels in a starry sky:

[Although I do not have a picture, Caroline brought her famous scones, tiny "pillows" for the Baby Jesus.]

Agnes read her three letters to the Wise Men from last year to the younger children:

Just as we were getting to the last crumb, the doorbell rang. It was late, and we were not expecting anyone, so this was quite strange, but our hostess hastened to open the door:

Lo, and behold, there on the porch was a huge red bag full of presents for each and every one of the children and even the adults:

We did not see who left these welcome gifts, but the children were quite certain dear St. Nicholas had a hand in it:

Maureen was thrilled with her package of small toys and coloring book:

And the baby exclaimed ere she drove out of sight, "Happy Epiphany to all, and to all a good night!"

Then and Now

Eileen, Christmas 2006

Eileen, Christmas 2007

Christmas Eve, a photoessay

These pictures show the joy of Christmas Eve, although they leave out the visit to my mother after evening Mass. This was the first year since we have been married that she did not come to Mass with us, exchanging presents by our tree afterward. In many ways, this Christmas feels surreal and incomplete, yet, even in sorrow, there is great rejoicing--a time to laugh, a time to weep.

Daddy snapped this photo, although it would have been so much nicer if he had been in it. I love the way the little ones are tending to their crying Eileen. As you can see, I remain true to form, looking like a combination of Olive Oyl and Ruth Buzzi:

Usually, our tree is up about a week before Christmas, but this year we were putting ornaments on minutes before leaving for church:

After Mass, it was Marie's turn to put the Baby Jesus in our outdoor nativity:

We did not manage a "path lighted by candles," but our candlelight procession cast a warm glow on the cold winter's night:

The flames needed to be protected from winter wind while we sang carols:

And Marie tripped in the tangles beneath her feet, yet was none the worse for wear:

Warming up indoors, Daddy lit a fire and we exchanged our annual Kris Kringle gifts. Marie, my Kris Kringle this year, presented me with this lovely ornament:

And a picture worth treasuring:

Here is the newest tradition at our house--the Christmas Pyramid--a wonder of engineering given to me this year by Daddy and the children. It runs on the heat of three candles:

If you would like to see our new pyramid in operation, please click here: Christmas 2007. The children, right down to three year old Maureen, do a heartfelt and unrehearsed rendition of Away in a Manger. (They all think it sounds horrible, but I still love it, even with the little ones singing off key!)

Eileen's expression perfectly captures the warmth and joy we wish you this Christmas and always!

Glory to God in the highest!

Joyful Tidings

How fitting that this glorious feast of Our Lord's Nativity has brought news of another newborn babe!

Joy to the World!

Do you remember that Easter Pageant soldier?

The one who almost played the Blessed Mother, but fit the soldier costume instead?

Well, here she is again--this time beaming in blue!!!

Happy Fourth Sunday of Advent and Merry Christmas!

Eyes open

The house is not at all neat, so much so I have already announced to the children my resolve not to let the clutter get me cranky. I am going to turn a blind eye to it, remembering that a day will come when we will miss this evidence of fast-paced family life.

The tree is not up, and the large Nativity scene is not alight outside our window. Our Christmas cards are not yet mailed, and an alarming number of my gifts have not been purchased. Maureen and Eileen still need black shoes for Christmas Eve, and I have decided the Christmas village does not need to make an appearance this year.

A couple of days ago, I asked myself why things were so scattered this year. Why is the house so difficult to maintain and all the usual Christmas preparations so far behind? Of course, I realized the answer almost instantly, ashamed to have even asked the question. Needless to say, it is because my mother is not here! How often must she have tidied up without me even noticing--and I thought things were under control because we were all so neat. How many errands did I run leaving her home reading books to the little ones--and I thought things were getting done because I was such a good planner. How many times did she show up with stamps and drop off a bundle of mail for me on her way home--and I thought my cards were out on time because our family had thought ahead!

Now this post may sound like a pre-Christmas downer, but it is not at all meant to be. I make these observations with a grateful heart and unblemished smile, laughing to realize that, grown woman though I may be, I still had a bit of childish obliviousness toward all my mother was doing around here. She would say it was nothing, but the absence of nothing would not be so keenly felt, would it?

So thank you Mom, for four decades of dedication second to none. I hope I can do half as much for my seven children as you've done for me!

Rock on, Santa, rock on

A year or so ago, I saw an amazing sight--a sight so welcome and unexpected I had to blink and rub my eyes to be sure it was not some sort of holiday hallucination. (I've been known to hit the egg nog pretty hard this time of year.)

My children were watching the Disney channel, yet there--flickering across the screen and unmistakable--was tremendously beautiful Catholic imagery, including extensive actual footage of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico.

It was all part of the Wiggles Christmas special, "Santa's Rockin'." Don't let the secular title fool you (as it did me at first, and, evidently, the executives at Disney)--it is a marvelous special worthy of EWTN. The special has another treat in store as well--actual footage of the members of The Wiggles with their wives and babies. Talk about heartwarming!

Please say a prayer for the very talented Greg Page--within this past year, he made the heartbreaking decision to leave the group because of a debilitating (but non life threatening) medical condition.

Scenes from the Feast of St. Nicholas 2007

Last year, we shared pictures of a day spent at a friend's house crafting and baking for the Feast of St. Nicholas. We continued the tradition this year with many of the same activities, but a few new twists as well.

There were cookies to cut:

Mexican God's Eye Ornaments (the perfect simple and inexpensive craft to make in advance of the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe):

We brought our traditional sled full of cookies:

And taught the children how to make these easy Take Along Mangers in Miniature reminiscent of last year's craft. (For details and materials, please see today's post at O Night Divine):

This little project was engaging for the older ones, but simple enough for a three-year-old:

And speaking of simple, my friend Mary taught the children to make these religious ornaments--cardboard discs embellished with holy images and trim:

Look how the baby has grown! It made me laugh to realize she is wearing the same outfit, only now she has grown into Maureen's dress from last year!

St. Nicholas, patron of children, pray for us!

Margaret's Wreath for Our Lady of Guadalupe

Dark blue with stars to recall Our Lady's Mantle, roses for St. Juan Diego, and black velvet ribbon make up this simple wreath. We read recently that Aztec women wore black ribbons around their waists to show they were expecting, hence the black ribbon around Our Lady's waist in the image on the tilma.

Candy Cottage for Our Lady

Last year, we began a new tradition in our home--putting up a gingerbread house on the Feast of Our Lady of Loreto, a date so closely associated with Our Lady's prayerful and holy home.

Hoping to continue the tradition simply and manageably this year, I purchased a Wilton Cottage Cake Pan a few weeks ago. It reminded me of the Holy House of Loreto as depicted on holy cards and in this coat of arms:

[Loreto Coat of Arms courtesy of International Civic Arms.]

We began with plain yellow cake mix, ready-made frosting, pink and purple sugars, gumdrops, gummi bears, mini-marshmallows, and colored wafers:

Once the cake was baked, it was a snap to frost in white. Theresa gave the cake a crumb coat, and Margaret and Marie to applied the candy embellishments. This they managed skillfully [I was making dinner and let them at it on their own] in spite of the help offered by Patrick, Maureen, and Eileen.

Margaret was particularly proud of her own innovation--a chimney made of mini marshmallows:

Here is the work in progress--Marie's snowman stands to the left:

It was my bright idea to put the cake on a pedestal cake pan to keep out of the way during dinner. We left it in the dining room on the piano out of reach of the little ones.

Midway through dinner, disaster struck!

We heard a sickening thud and raced in to find our candy cottage face up on the floor:

Margaret's chimney was no more:

And look at our poor piano! [This photo was taken after we cleaned the keys.]

Disappointed, but undaunted, Margaret set about a reconstruction. The fact that we already had a picture of the cake in its original glory was a comfort to her. We talked about the Holy House in Loreto and how angels carried it from the Holy Land to Italy to prevent its desecration. Our Candy House had moved unexpectedly too! We like to think the angels helped it land face up, even though it fell face forward. : )

Every year, I save particularly beautiful Christmas cards, knowing we may eventually find a good use for them, and this image of the Blessed Mother in red was just the thing for our pretty house. I left a bit of the card edge at the bottom to stick into the icing, creating a vibrant "Loreto" cake topper:

A group of cherubs hold up the base, reminding us of the many holy card images we have seen of Our Lady of Loreto:

At the end of the day, the children gathered round, of all things, the laptop computer. We made the Consecration to Our Lady of Loreto from the wonderful Minnesota Mom. Having just prepared for the Total Consecration on December 8th, this was especially meaningful.

Before bed, I blessed the children with Loreto Oil from the Holy House, sent by my dear friend Anne for my mother. What a blessing it is to have such good and thoughtful friends!

Our Lady of Loreto, pray for us! Bless our homes and our families, and make us more like you!

Jesse Tree in Miniature, Jesse Tree Full-Size

Last week I mentioned we would be hunting for our Advent Cubes from last year. What I had forgotten was that, during the summer, while we were away in San Francisco, a leak in the basement had done some damage in the boiler room. Unfortunately, the advent materials (among other things) were damp and useless when I uncovered them, leaving us to begin at square one with almost everything.

Fortunately, stuffed in the closet we had an 8 inch bare tree, meant as an accessory for the Christmas village I never get around to setting up year after year:

A while back a friend of mine had brought a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates to our Mother's Tea and Rosary. It was beautiful and beveled, with exactly twenty-five small compartments, so I saved it hoping to create and Advent calendar of some sort:

One holy card was enough to transform the box into something perfect for Advent and Christmas:

Using the pictures of last year's Advent cubes, the four older girls and I spent Saturday afternoon making tiny ornaments out of Sculpey. With five pairs of hands, this did not take long:

Here they are before baking and painting:

They fit well in the candy box, ready to be taken out each day:

At eight inches high, the Jesse tree looks as if it sprang up right outside the Mission in Miniature. The Guadalupe holy card in the background will help show the small scale of the tree:

And here is something far more wonderful, a complete set of Jesse tree ornaments created for us by the mothers from my local homeschooling group--the brainchild of my generous and thoughtful friend Leticia! They knew things would be chaotic for us this year with my mother in the hospital and made me a complete set! We are so blessed to have these friends!

And, as if that is not enough, look at the perfect Jesse tree my friend Heather gave me for my birthday--she said the bird at the top reminded her of me! Thank you, Heather!

California Mission in Miniature

Last week, we made miniature Wayside Shrines similar to the ones I loved in Ireland as a little girl. After our summer in San Francisco, there is no doubt the California Missions made a similar impression on my children. We were blessed to visit four of them during our stay--Mission San Rafael, Mission Dolores (San Francisco de Assis), Mission San Luis Obispo, and Mission Carmel, the burial place of Blessed Junipero Serra.

With the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe right around the corner, this seemed a good time to create our own miniature mission shrine, using elements inspired by the four beautiful missions we remember so well. We began with a double sided wooden frame from the craft store. The tiled roof made us think of the missions:

The photo of Mission Carmel below gives a glimpse of the terracotta tiles so common in mission churches:

Eight-year-old Marie enjoyed painting the tiles of our "mission":

Mission San Rafael is creamy beige with crosses on top and two topiaries gracing the front:

The first side of our shrine, representing the outside of the missions, has a similar look:

Monuments to Father Junipero Serra, here shown in the garden at Carmel, may be found all over California:

If you look closely at the side of the church in Carmel, you will notice graves adorned with sea shells:

A holy card image of Blessed Serra, along with a small seashell, complete the first side:

For the interior, we drew inspiration from the freestyle flower borders of Mission San Luis Obispo:

We all loved the way this simple border echoed the ones we remember:

This wall of statues from Mission Dolores in San Francisco is typical of the missions--there are always many statues and images to inspire:

We adorned our mission "interior" using saints' images from a broken bracelet and a holy card of Our Lady of Guadalupe:

After the summer we had, it seems appropriate to have this reminder of the California Missions displayed prominently on our Advent table. It will also make a double-sided centerpiece for our Guadalupe Tea next week.

Blessed Junipero Serra, pray for us!

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us!

Christmas Novena for the Feast of St. Andrew

Today is the day to begin the Christmas Novena from now until December 25th. Here is the prayer:

Hail, and blessed be the hour and moment at which the Son of God was born of a most pure Virgin at a stable at midnight in Bethlehem in the piercing cold. At that hour vouchsafe, I beseech Thee, to hear my prayers and grant my desires. (Mention your intentions here) Through Jesus Christ and His most Blessed Mother.

*******
The faithful are encouraged to repeat this short, but beautiful, prayer 15 times a day.

In keeping with a tradition begun last year, I am about to put the prayer in my sidebar as an ongoing reminder. If at least fourteen others were to do this, we could remember to say the prayer when visiting each other's blogs. : ) : ) : )

Our project for today: digging out last year's Advent Cubes.

A Timeline of Mercy

December 6, 2002

I write a notice to our local Immaculate Heart of Mary homeschooling group:

"Dear Friends,

As you know, the Little Flowers close of season party is next week, December 11th. It was originally scheduled for 2 pm, but I've decided to move it up to 1 pm to get the most of the daylight. It's supposed to rain, unfortunately, but the children wouldn't really be able to play outside in the cold anyway, so we will not postpone. The theme of the party will be "Our Lady of Guadalupe" because her feast is the next day. A wonderful craft and activity are planned, so I hope you will all try to attend.

Love, Alice"

December 11, 2002

9 am

The weather is icy and rainy. I briefly consider calling off the party at the last minute, but hesitate to postpone with Christmas coming.

1 pm

The party is in full swing. [MacBeth and her family visit for the first time--she and I hit it off instantly.] Brigid O'Neill brings cappuccino bars--a special treat for her coffee-loving hostess. The children enjoy creating Juan Diego paper dolls and pose for a group picture near a Guadalupe banner painted by my friend Lorraine and her children. Emily O'Neill, Brigid's seven-year-old daughter, appears on the right, wearing a white turtleneck and dark jumper.

6 pm

The place is a mess! Brigid, who normally leaves promptly at 4 pm, has stayed behind to clean up. When she finally gets four-year-old Danny and seven-year-old Emily into the car, she returns to say goodbye, making the observation, "It's viciously slick out there!" The family leaves, beginning the Rosary, as is their usual practice.

The moment the house is empty, I make a quick phone call to Lissa in Virginia, leaving a message on her machine saying, "This was such a great party! I really wish you'd been here!"

6:15

A speeding eighteen-year-old's car flips across the divider on the Meadowbrook Parkway, landing on the hood and roof of Brigid's van, before overturning his SUV more than once. The crushed roof narrowly misses the heads of the two small children strapped in the back, barely grazing little Danny. Emily has the presence of mind to unstrap her young brother and drag him out a broken car window to safety. She stands next to her grievously injured mother in the pouring rain, refusing to leave her side.

6:45

Brigid's mother calls with the news. She does not have any details except that Brigid is in critical condition and the children are well. The other driver was able to walk away from the accident. Brigid's husband is on his way to the hospital.

I call Lissa and leave another message very different from the first.

8:39 pm

Lorraine writes to our local group:

Brigid O'Neill was in a very bad car accident this afternoon. She is in critical condition, unconscious, in ICU. The children are fine.

Please pray.

A trio of mothers heads straight to the hospital with relics and a small image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Those of us at home begin an emergency nine hour Novena. Lissa, Lorraine and I alert the larger internet homeschooling community, begging for prayers from the CCM mothers and anyone else we can find. [Many of you remember this well and were a part of the enormous prayer and fasting effort offered for Brigid by hundreds of mothers.]

December 12, 2002, The Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe

Lissa, helpless and distraught in Virginia, is setting out for the Adoration chapel in Staunton to pray for Brigid when two packages arrive, both sent independently by her two best friends. The first is a pair of pink and blue personalized Rosary Beads from me--an early birthday present. The second is a care package from Brigid--cappuccino bars with the note, "If you can't come to the party, we'll send the party to you." (Brigid had spent $36 overnighting them to Virginia.)

December 23, 2002

Just in time for Christmas, Brigid squeezes her husband's hand on command, in his words, "the best Christmas present ever."

January 3, 2003

A saintly woman from Westchester contacts us asking to take the pilgrim image of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Brigid's bedside the following Sunday at 3 pm, "The Hour of Mercy."

January 5, 2003

I write an update to our local group (slightly edited here):

"Dear Friends,

Patty B. brought the Image of O.L. of Guadalupe to Brigid today, and it was just beautiful. Tracey and Elizabeth were there when we arrived, and afterward we were joined by Dan, Brigid's mother and father, Mary Anne, Kathleen, and Patrice. It was very moving. The image was huge, over 6 feet tall. Patty told us all about the miraculous healings and conversions associated with this particular image, and then offered to bring it to Brigid's children . . . . [I]t was dark and the snow was coming down fairly hard, but Patty insisted on bringing the image inside my house before she left. My children were each able to kiss Our Lady and kneel before her to say the Memorare. You can imagine how blessed I felt, especially because Brigid's wonderful parents were there as well. Brigid's father actually took pictures of my family with the Image! It was incredibly special.

Now I just hope Patty made it home tonight in the snow. When I expressed my concern, she smiled and replied calmly, "How can I not be safe when I have Our Lady with me?" I guess we've found ourselves yet another saint.

Love, Alice"

January 2003 to April 2007

The pain and suffering, joy and hope, along the road to recovery is Brigid's story to tell, and I cannot begin to do it justice. These years haven't always been easy--not by a long shot--but she is with us, and her children have their beautiful mother back again.

April 7, 2007

A newer member of our local homeschooling group leaves a message (read by me on April 10th):

I would like to offer the Missionary Image of Our Lady of Guadalupe to the IHM moms. Easter Wednesday is the only available day left. . . . . Can you offer a suggestion for where we all can meet for a couple of hours, somewhere halfway?

It just so happens I am already scheduled to host the first day of Little Flowers on Easter Wednesday. I gratefully accept her offer, requesting that she bring the Image to my house.

April 11, 2007

Brigid and her children attend the party, three living miracles and reminders of God's mercy. Brigid has but one request--a picture to send to her Mom:

At the end of a grace-filled day, I take another group shot. This time Emily stands third from the right in the back row. Many of those tall young ladies were little ones in the original Guadalupe photo, and some of their younger brothers and sisters--babies back then--now stand alongside them. Time marches on.

Somehow, it seems, Our Lady has brought us full circle, continuing to ask, in her words to St. Juan Diego, "Am I not here who is your mother?"

Yes, she is here. She has always been here, standing by our side as faithfully as that little girl in the rain.

May we never cease to thank our Mother--the Mother of Mercy--for the gift of Brigid's Life.

*******
This Timeline of Mercy is dedicated to Miss Emily O'Neill, on the occasion of her twelfth birthday, which happens to fall--not surprisingly--on Divine Mercy Sunday this year.

The Coffers of Grace

That picture says it all, doesn't it?

It happened a few days before Christmas (the 22d of December to be exact), but I hesitated to write a forlorn post just before the celebration of Our Savior's Birth. Here is my tale of woe:

Anyone who has been to our home cannot help but notice our statue of Our Lady of Fatima. Displayed in the most prominent corner of our family room, it has been our centerpiece, inspiring us through countless family rosaries, May Crownings, and First Holy Communions, a vivid reminder that the Mother of God is Queen of our Home and Hearts.

Every year, we make way for the Christmas Tree, temporarily reassigning our lovely statue to a less crowded room. She was in an odd spot on the floor awaiting the yearly move when Patrick bounded in from the living room. I was getting a few surprises ready for him and his sisters, so I said, "No, honey, don't look! These are meant to be a surprise." In his five-year-old simplicity, he decided to avoid seeing the surprises by hiding, hastily thrusting the couch forward in an effort to dash behind. It all happened in an instant, but the couch tipped into the statue, knocking it off balance. It felt as if I saw Our Lady falling in slow motion for ten minutes. I called out, "No!" but it was too late. Down she crashed with an unspeakable and sickening thud.

The girls streamed in from all directions, and Patrick looked dazed. Instantly, our jovial Christmas mood lied in ruins with our statue, and we stood dumbfounded, gazing upon the poor forlorn pieces in disbelief. A few of the girls began to sob, and I hastened to remind them that Our Lady was still with us, even if her image was beyond repair. They knew it already--that was plain--but it was the kind of comfort one gives to the victim of a flood who has just lost her wedding album. At least our dear Patrick was consoled when I assured him he had done nothing wrong, particularly because the poor boy was only trying to obey me.

Throughout that night and the next day, the optimist in me yearned to find some joy in this tale, but my thoughts seemed to fall flat. Grasping for something that would give meaning to the loss, I thought about Our Lady making way for her Son--she always steps aside for Him and would have gladly done so to help us prepare for Christmas--placing her new born Babe to the center where He belongs. Still, remembering the Mystery of the Assumption and knowing that Our Lord did not allow His mother's pure body to undergo corruption, a shattered statue seemed an imperfect symbol, at best. I pondered and sought, but my thoughts and and musings seemed in vain. We had a broken statue, and that was that.

Then, while reading late last night, I found this:

"God the Father gathered all the waters together and called them the seas or maria. He gathered all his grace together and called it Mary or Maria. The great God has a treasury or storehouse full of riches in which he has enclosed all that is beautiful, resplendent, rare and precious, even his own Son. This immense treasury is none other than Mary whom the saints call the 'treasury of the Lord.' From her fulness all men are made rich."

--St. Louis de Montfort, True Devotion to the Blessed Virgin

It seemed St. Louis de Montfort was showing me how to think about this story. Our broken statue became the symbol of the Treasure that is Mary--abundant and bursting with graces for mankind--ready and waiting to be broken open so that she may dispense jewels and riches upon all those who ask. It may sound silly, but I began to see our battered statue as an earthly representation of the Heavenly Piggy Bank of Grace that is our beautiful Blessed Mother, and she seemed to be reminding us yet again (as she instructed the children at Fatima) that we must not neglect to ask for our share of the wealth.

*******
In spite of a hard landing on the brick fireplace surround, Our Lady's face and hands remained beautifully intact, and we will save them forever. Margaret begged, through tears, to be allowed to keep the hands and wrapped them lovingly in a flower-flecked piece of fabric. The rest of the pieces will be buried in our garden. A friend told me recently that St. Joseph of Cupertino, the reluctant saint, once broke a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary, but saved the head always. Perhaps he may become a family patron.

If you have a moment to look at some old photos, you will see a few memories of our statue. I purchased her for our very first May crowning (well, at least our first May Crowning with a crowd of friends) in 2001. The statue arrived the morning of the event, and, as you will see in the next two pictures, three year old Margaret was enamored of it. All while our guests sang hymns and processed with flowers, she stood transfixed in her blue flower-sprigged dress, unable to remove her gaze from Our Lady's face:

It was Theresa's turn to crown Our Lady that first year, and she managed beautifully.

Seeing our old living room brings a smile to my face, and I remember the theme for that first Crowning--To Jesus, Through Mary: Our Mother always leads us to Her Son:

Beginning with Agnes, our First Communicants have all crowned the statue directly after Mass. This photo shows Theresa (with dh) in May of 2003, the second of our three oldest girls to have the honor of crowning the statue on her First Communion Day:

Cottage Blessings readers will recognize this photo of our most recent May Altar:

And Our Lady was in the background during that expectant Mommy shot last Easter:

We have dozens of photos like this one, images snapped by the children with the digital camera. After all, if you get your hands on Mom's digital camera, why not photograph the most beautiful thing in the house?

Oh, and the story has a happy ending, friends, so do not feel too sorry for us. My mother immediately and insistently offered to replace the statue as a family Christmas gift. Theresa and I tried to purchase a new one this past weekend, but the face on the one in the store did not seem as beautifully painted as our cherished statue, and the new one seemed much smaller somehow. We decided not to bring it home just yet, but hopefully, we will be blessed to unveil a new beauty in time for May this year!

A Rose in Winter

[Please click on the thumbnail above for a larger image.]

I absolutely love the pair of rosey summer wreaths we keep on our two doors--so much so that when Autumn blew into town, I could not bear to part with them. By early December though, it seemed the wreaths would need to be packed away, left to linger in a dark corner of the basement, dull and dormant as the real flowers outside. That is until I decided to dress my blushing darlings up for the season! Gleaming red and pink balls, sugary cottages, and two fetching porcelain dolls spruced the wreaths up so nicely that I've decided to put them back on the doors this week as a bright spot in the bleak wintery landscape to come.

Here is how the wreath looked in Summer, by the way:

The two ornate circlets gave the Christmas tree Victorian flair:

It seems my wreaths and I just might be able to hold out until the Spring thaw.

*******
Many thanks to Cheryl for beginning this thread about door decorations. I was beginning to think it was too late to show the wreaths this year!

More from Patrick Scissorhands

As you may be able to surmise from recent posts, Patrick is going through a bit of a scissors phase. I forgot to tell you that several days before Christmas, we caught him contentedly attempting to cut one of the wires we use to ensure that the tree does not tumble down from its perch on a coffee table.

I gave him a bit of a speech about it, turning to my husband with a note of nervous humor, "He's just going to cut a wire a day until the whole thing topples over."

Without missing a beat, Margaret quipped, "It's his Advent Calendar."

Sowing a Seed

"Joshua and the battle of Jericho, Jericho, Jericho! Joshua and the battle of Jericho! And the walls came tumbling down!"

I can still see the scene in my mind's eye: the cafeteria of St. Mary's School, surreal to me at night, with an assortment of neighborhood children pressing round a fortress of cardboard milk cartons. The gang of us are singing at the top of our lungs, before bolting forward with a whoop to topple the flimsy firmament at just the right moment. This simple, boisterous game was all part of "Family Night," an event promoted in those days by a young priest named Father Daily and filed away forever in my treasure chest of joyful childhood memories. I am not sure what I knew about Joshua or Jericho at the time, yet the fun and wild abandon of the game remains with me still.

Then there was Lent at St. Mary's Church and the 7:30 evening Mass in its dimly lit basement. My mother and our neighbor, Mrs. Maloney, would rarely miss it. Anne Maloney and I could not wait to pile into the car for the novel nightly outing, or better yet walk under the train trestle with its flourescent lights and cooing pigeons, pretty sure of a soda at Alexander's afterward, and, if we were very lucky, a piece of creamy white chocolate to split between us. How I loved those Masses with Anne at my side and holy Father Callahan on the altar. The memory of them brings a pleasing mist to my eyes even now.

Looking back on my early "spiritual" experiences, I see now that, although they were in some ways less than ethereal, those blessed moments are cloaked in a mantle of simple childish gladness and mirth. To this day, I love the Mass and the Church and the Holy Bible and our parish priests, and, it seems to me, the seeds of Faith and love and loyalty were sown deep, sown in the ready heart of a child and fed and fertilized with soda and smiles, war whoops and white chocolate.

In passing on the Faith to our children, it is a great hope of mine that we will allow them to form many happy associations like these. Armed with a childhood of fond religious memories, they surely will fare far better against the world's onslaught than those tottery milk cartons in the cafeteria. With this in mind, we have begun a new tradition in our home--First Saturday Outings.

The idea was born over hot chocolates in Starbuck's back in December. I had taken the four older girls and my favorite slingrider to do a little window shopping while dh watched Patrick and Maureen. The night was pleasingly temperate, and our spirits were so high that it made me wonder why we rarely go out together in the evening. It happened to be First Saturday, and I considered what fun it would be make a special trip every First Saturday night. The girls were at once taken with the idea and talked about the first Saturday of January for a full month. Even the wonders of Christmas and New Year's could not dilute their eager anticipation.

First Saturday morning, the children awoke already talking about Mass and Confession and the special trip planned for afterward. This month, our outing consisted of omelettes at a local diner with a walk through Border's Bookstore afterward. Dh and I decided to spring for a round of hot cocoa at the cafe, but, much to everyone's dismay, they were all out of (gasp) cocoa powder. Fortuitously, the girl behind the counter offered white chocolate as a substitute, and, you will be glad to learn, the pale variety was accepted by today's young Catholics as readily as it was by Anne Maloney and Alice O'Brien those many years ago.

We arrived home late and began the usual bustle of toothbrushing, pajama hunting, and laundry rounding ("It's like herding cats," quipped dh.) The little three were asleep in an instant, when I remembered we had not yet said a Rosary or meditated an extra fifteen minutes on the Mysteries for First Saturday. The four girls were only too happy to stay up a while longer for a cozy, quiet Rosary, and I was just about to remind them of the quarter hour's meditation, when an idea struck me.

"Get on your coats, girls."

Eight eyes opened wide, and even dh uttered a disbelieving, "Did you say 'coats'?"

Within two minutes, we were outside under the stars--barely chilly with the springlike weather we have been having--and singing around our outdoor creche. Everything but the creche was pitch black, and the children's voices rose sweetly in the thin night air. Hymn after hymn of their own choosing: "Lo, How a Rose E're Blooming," "Adeste Fideles," "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," "Do You Know What I Know?" "Away in a Manger"--they formed the merriest little quartet of carolers you ever heard, inventing harmonies and smiling toward the stable. I listened silently, my heart swelling with hope that these blessed hymns might be their "Joshua and the Battle of Jericho," with each heartfelt note girding them for adulthood.

As we walked back to the house, I found more than one young hand had made its way into mine, and a couple of the girls walked ahead arm in arm. Margaret turned to me with a face as bright as the moon above our heads and proclaimed, "This was such a fun day!"

More music to my ears.

Scenes from our Tea for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany

Our Tea for the Twelve Days of Christmas and Epiphany was appreciated by all the children, and I am hoping it will become a tradition in our house for many years to come.

How perfect is this teapot (coffee pot, actually)? Its deep burgundy and woodsy hues form a cozy backdrop for the lyrics to "Silent Night." I found this treasure at an after-Christmas sale and almost did not purchase it. That is, until I caught site of the nesting sugar and creamer and was smitten instantly and irrevocably. I had never before seen a creamer resting atop a sugar bowl, and, although I realize it will never hold enough milk to accommodate that hulking coffee pot, true love isn't necessarily practical. Believe it or not, it was only when I brought these home that I realized how perfect they would be for our Christmas Tea! After all, tea may be brewed in a coffee pot!

"Tea from the Innkeeper":

"Sugar Cubes for Our Lady":

"Milk for St. Joseph":

As you can see, the creamer actually forms a lid for the sugar bowl, reminding us that St. Joseph is the protector of Our Lady:

I had planned on heading out to the bakery for a baguette and rolls, but a busy morning prevented the errand. Theresa saved the day by whipping up a blueberry quick bread from a mix to represent "Bethlehem, House of Bread":

"Babes in the Manger":

"Shepherd's Staffs":

Margaret, Marie, Patrick, and Theresa spent part of the afternoon creating dozens of angels out of coffee filters. There were several different designs, but my personal favorites were the ones made out of our cut-up Christmas photograph. "A Host of Angels":

An angelic centerpiece, with seven angels--one for each of the children:

Agnes' letters were a highlight for all of us. She read them aloud while the others gathered round the tree. Has it truly been a year since she surprised me with that Wise Man Figure?

"Wise Men's Gifts":

At the very end, the children opened yet another very special surprise on behalf of the Christ Child:

The gifts of the Magi--gold, frankincense, and myrrh in ornate boxes--an extravagance purchased two days ago for a clearance price at yet another after-Christmas sale. I never would have thought of purchasing these, but the price was too good to pass up. You see, there are many advantages to being one of the minority who celebrates the Twelve Days of Christmas:

Of course, it wouldn't be a Cottage Blessings Party without our usual rag tag band of party crashers. Oh, how I love the ever-growing Raggedy Family:

So Eileen, what did you think of your first Christmas Tea?

Her smile says it all!

Happy Feast of the Epiphany, dear friends!