The Gift of a Child

Eighteen years ago, I met this sweet baby, my son Max. Michael was the first to hold him, do everything for him. I managed to take a picture from my bed a few hours later of my two loves. We were in the hospital for two weeks because of ABO-blood incompatibility. Max was severely jaundiced. Even when we came home, he had to be on bili-lights for the first month. He avoided having to have a blood transfusion in the nick of time. But after a difficult start, he thrived, tripling his birth weight in just 6 months. He was such a roly-poly baby I thought I'd have a baby elephant on my hands. Thankfully he slowed down and I was glad when he learned to walk because he was getting too heavy for me to carry about. And then along came Dagny ... and Max has been a very good big brother.     

 

 

  

Max is a strapping young man now, ready to leave the nest thanks to God's abundant blessings. We are grateful for all our wonderful relatives, teachers, coaches, priests, and friends in his life who've helped him develop his various talents. Michael and I feel like Tevye and Golde as we sing Sunrise, Sunset and reflect upon the great gift God has given us in Max. Swiftly fly the years. One season following another, laden with happiness and tears. My dear Max, I pray always you grow closer to Jesus, discern your vocation, and do God's holy will with joy. Happy Birthday Max! God bless you and make you a saint! I love you more than you'll ever know. Mom.

 

Road Trips and Summer Camps

 

 

 Ever since Max went to the wonderful FSSP camp, I've been searching for something similar for Dagny. And that answer came through the Monfort Retreat Center and traditional Benedictine sisters: Slaves of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. There's daily Mass, rosary, sports, lectures and time to rest and reflect in these beautiful woods/lake in NH. Dagny enjoyed it so very much, she wants to return next year! Here is the Sisters' FB page and they are posting some photos. And this little video is about who they are and what their apostolate is so very beautiful. Have a look!

Dagny flew up to Boston by herself from Charlotte, NC and Michael and Max had an opportunity to visit Belmont Abbey. Later in the week they drove up to NH to pick her up because on the way back they'd drop off Max at Christendom College. He had a taste of college life there (thanks to a generous scholarship) and he loved it because they studied all his favorite classes -- Literature, Theology, History and Philosophy. No math!!! LOL. After classes, they went to daily Mass,  had lunch, and then had some fun activities. He enjoyed his time very much there and it's going to be tough deciding between Ave Maria, Belmont Abbey, Christendom. We ask for your prayers as he discerns. It's sooooo good to have everybody home safe and sound. Thanks be to God for all these wonderful opportunities. Michael is exhausted but we're staying put in July.

 

 

 

More photos at Christendom's FB page

Happy Mother's Day

This was a busy weekend -- rugby match (semi-finals ... Bishops won so we'll go to the state finals this coming weekend), extra choir practice, fighting traffic (Michael said more people go out to celebrate Mother's Day than Easter), plus a birthday girl in our family. I love that she shares her birthday month with one that honors Mary, who is also our Mother. For those of us who've lost our mothers, Mary is especially close. I often imagine my mother in heaven enjoying her company! I like that we sing Salve Regina at the close of every Mass in May and October. I wish we sang Ave Maris Stella more often, especially since our Church is named Stella Maris!

Max is 2 yrs, Dagny is 2 mo old

5 yrs later: Dagny 5, Max 7

10 yrs later: Max 17, Dagny 15

See how the years fly? The next time I blink, they'll be flying the nest. How I love being a mother! I cannot truly express my joy. I am grateful I've been able to stay home with my children, watch them grow, have a hand in shaping their character. I am deeply grateful for my husband, who made a mother out of me (it's not called Holy Matrimony for nothing) and supported me. He was delighted that I wanted to stay home and didn't push me to work. I know several of his colleagues who thought it was the stupidest thing because I could've been raking in 100K a year working at a biotech company. But they don't realize that being with your children is more important than money.

Alright, since I'm feeling far too sentimental, it's probably a good idea to read BABIES: An Unsentimental Anthology by Iona and Peter Opie. This is a book that will make you laugh and let all parents feel better when they discover that the baby you so longed for isn't a little angel all the time. Here's one of the tamer traditional poems:

Oh! let me kiss the baby
Once more before I go;
Oh let me kiss the baby
And bite his little toe.

I've known this phrase for the longest time: The Hand that Rocks the Cradle is the Hand that Rules the World. But I never knew it was a poem by William Ross Wallace (1819-1881) until now. To all mothers -- this is for you with all my best sentiments!

BLESSINGS on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—

Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—

Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

St. Clare, Little Children, and Guardian Angels

The newest parish in America, St. Clare of Assisi Catholic Church, is celebrating her patron saint's Feast Day on Daniel Island. What joy! In these trying times, we really do need her clarity and courage to do the right thing. St. Clare, pray for us.

Today's Gospel reading (Matt 18:1-14) struck me with such force. The disciples ask Jesus who is the greatest. Jesus calls a little child over and says, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the Kingdom of heaven ... and whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me ... See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father..."

I can only imagine the guardian angels of the millions of babies whose life was brutally cut short due to abortion. Are they pleading for justice? Mercy? I hope both.

Because we were on vacation and completely unplugged, I had missed some awful news about Planned Parenthood, namely their damning confession of trafficking of baby-parts. See here the courageous work of exposing PP but be prepared to throw up. I couldn't watch all of the clips. My younger atheist self could have though. In the scientific world, this has been happening for decades. See here for just one example. I never paid much attention to this since I was in the field of bacterial physiology, but I am still shocked and confused that I had no sense of outrage like I did when I discovered the horrible experiments conducted by the Nazis on the Jewish people. By the time I was in college and doing my own research, I had become numb ...  when I read papers outside my field, I skimmed the materials and methods section. Words like "fetal tissue" didn't give me pause. Lord have mercy.

The misuse of a human being is entirely unacceptable. We've made laws against it. Yet, in the name of progress we forget. The majority of it is government-funded work with our tax dollars. Is this really what *you* want? Where are the committees on ethics? Without a moral compass, we do unspeakable things. We not only misuse but kill outright without remorse. Why, we have more compassion for a lion. My husband sent this picture to me (sorry for not attributing it -- if you know who made it, please let me know):

It reminds me of Stalin's quote about the starving people. "A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic." 

Oh, but how we'll pay. If we do not stop the carnage, we'll have hell to pay. The guardian angels of the little ones are praying.

On Art and Electronics

Looks like Max isn't the only winner. Dagny's horse won a blue ribbon at the county art fair ...

And here are a couple more noteworthy pieces. Dagny's best friend at school drew her mother using the photograph. It might have been taken 20 years ago, but she still looks the same!  And Max made the bowl and Christmas tree in his ceramics class.

 I find that the children used to spend hours drawing and experimenting. Now that they are older, their creative output is so much less. They play computer games or read the news or participate in social media ... I can't help but think they're swimming in the shallows. We routinely turn off everything so that they can reset (and just look at my own language -- it reflects how much the electronics have taken over my own life).

I will be ever grateful that we had some sense to keep all this away for the first decade of their lives so that they could develop their minds. We introduced the electronics in a limited way 4 yrs ago, but as they enter adolescence, we are letting them have full use and it's interesting (and dismaying and sad) to observe how quickly they discard the development of their own art in favor of becoming consumers. So we let them loose, and rein them in. And trying hard to cultivate a few good habits since the electronics are here to stay in their lives. But I mourn the loss of hours and hours of play. Even my own creative life thrives when I take the time to walk and observe all the beauty around me, listen to bird-song, play the piano, and write for no reason except to put words on paper or play with the arrangement of words. I often switch between different projects with poetry  because it shakes things loose in my brain. I do not want the children to waste this wonderful time in their lives glued to a device in their *free time*. Now it's not all bad. It is the computer that has allowed us to play with pictures and make little home movies. But note the operative word: PLAY.

Parents, tell me, how do you strike a balance with your children? 

It Can Wait Texting and Driving Winners!

I am so proud of all these boys for taking the initiative to spread the word on not texting and driving. You can read the full essay and watch the videos here: http://scpress.org/ItCanWait/ 


We got the news yesterday just before Max got home from school. I could see the smile on his face well before he got home ... he had his cell phone out. "Look up," I whispered. We had a great time reminiscing about all his writing adventures before he headed off to film a football game. He remembered how he wrote a 20-page story about magic basketball shoes in fourth grade. I remember how he wrote and wrote, with utter concentration. The assignment was for 2 pages and he didn't look up until he had about five pages. He remembered how much he liked the story he wrote about the Egyptian scribe, his first historical. We cracked up thinking about his salmon story, how the males fought before spawning. Suspense till the very end! And I remembered the story he wrote in first grade, where the twist was so great, I wanted to steal it for a magazine article. He's given me permission!

Ah, Max! I pray you live up to this essay. You bear a greater responsibility because you've been given much. You have the hand of God upon you. May you always let Him lead you.

What a Difference a Year Makes

Dagny had the wonderful opportunity to go to a birthday party with a painting lesson. What a treat to celebrate and paint with friends! You can see how much she has improved. I love having the kids' drawings and paintings up on the wall. Sometimes they don't like seeing something from when they were little because the drawings look "babyish," but I like having a few keepsakes from their younger years.

It is the same with writing. Looking at those old stories once in a while reminds me how far I've come and boy am I glad for those rejections. But other stories need only be revised for publication. But it's reading great books that reminds me how much farther I have yet to go. They push me to keep studying the craft and keep writing.

This morning we polished off the last of these little orange/mango/peach jam muffins!!! Dagny has discovered Pioneer Woman and routinely uses her recipes and is now improvising them. A sign of a true cook! Oh, what a difference a year makes!

More Ice Days

We're having another round of closures -- bridges and schools -- and with Valentine's Day and President's Day holidays coming, my kids are having a nice long break. Don't these guys look happy? They are supposed to be programming but I have a suspicion they are watching funny cat videos. As if we don't have our own entertainment.

Dagny has been drawing. So impressed with her horse. The things she can do with a pencil. She's a good writer too! Her short story won a Daughters of the American Revolution contest, and we've been invited to a luncheon and tour downtown.

She's following in Max's footsteps and developing her picture-taking skills too. Of course, a gorgeous sunrise is inspiration. I hope we return to our usual 70 deg. temps. soon. I miss our Carolina warmth.

On Drawing and Writing

 

 

Last semester, Max took an art class. He has a sketchbook full of practice art and it's uncanny how similar the process is for writing. It's sifting, sorting through the information, looking at it from different angles, until you finally decide what it is you want to shine a spotlight on.

 

In the ICL course, we devote two lessons solely to developing the skills of observation, one is to describe a place from the past, and another is to observe a child and then make up a story. I find that even the weak students really shine at the memory exercise. We ask for specific details and almost everybody comes through. If someone is experiencing writer's block, I tell them to sit down and write what is in front of them. Ground yourself in the concrete. Don't even try to remember a thing. What is amazing is how quickly one thing leads to another and the person is writing with greater confidence. But it begins in the concrete. Our story people need flesh and blood and need to interact with other flesh and blood characters and their environment. Stories have to be rooted in physicality.

 

When I do workshops with kids, I ask them to focus on concrete objects, their space and their relationship to it. I have them draw maps. And when I work with really little kids, we draw what I call a "small moment" and try to write a sentence. And it was volunteering in the kindergarten/1st grade classrooms that I discovered how important it is for me to do the same. Draw and then write. Drawing helps you to pay more attention to the details. I don't have a sketchbook like Max, but I am an inveterate doodler, drawing patterns and faces, maps and places, in my notebook. As I look at Max's drawings, I am convinced I should do more of it. By the way, he is also an excellent writer!

 

Small moments. A story is made up of many small moments (scenes). And I've found storyboarding to be a powerful tool. I learned from Carolyn Coman to not only draw the major action of the moment, but to write the primary emotion so that we could track the emotional journey as well.

 

What about you? Do you enjoy drawing? Do you create maps and storyboards? What other activities or artistic endeavors do you find enormously helpful in your writing life? Curious minds want to know.

 

FSSP Summer Camp

For ten days this summer, our son was at St. Isaac Jogues Camp. It's run by the FSSP (Fraternity of St. Peter) a brotherhood that is devoted to the preservation of the traditional Latin Mass. They celebrated their 25th anniversary this summer. You can imagine it's not the usual kind of summer camp one thinks of with a bunch of outdoor activities. Here, they camped out, hiked, played games, as well as went to daily Mass, studied the catechism, prayed the rosary, and other prayers. The focus is to grow in all virtues, and to discern whether one is being called to a religious vocation. The boys had a great time. Enroute, they went to Mass at the National Shrine, and made a one day trip to Gettysburg.

Below, I share some pictures, all taken by my son. You can see they travelled in style.

My son took a lot of pictures of the National Shrine, the alcoves housing different and varied religious art, and prayer candles.

No pictures at Gettysburg. But here's camp!

Men in Black. The seminarians took the boys to the local ice cream shop.

The boys had inchworm wars.

Don't you think this seminarian is rather Father Brown-esque? The boys loved their shooting lessons. Us Catholics are more wild and dangerous than you think we are.

I was looking at this same moon down in South Carolina. So lovely. I could imagine the boys on their backs watching the beautiful sunsets, clouds and moon, singing songs.

This huge bonfire was a pyromaniac's dream.

 

The boys had such a good time. My son wants to go back next summer.

God bless all the seminarians and priests.