For Veterans Day

I read this story about a Marine during WWII and St. Michael the Archangel a few years ago. It's beautiful. Thank a vet this week, won't you?

True story of a Soldier and the Intervention of St. Michael

What follows is a letter written by a young Marine to his mother while he was hospitalized after being wounded on a Korean battlefield in 1950. It came into the hands of a Navy Chaplain who read the letter before 5,000 Marines at a San Diego Naval Base in 1951.

The Navy Chaplain had talked to the young man, to his mother, and to the Sergeant in charge of the patrol. This Navy Chaplain, Father Walter Muldy, assured anyone who asked, that this was a true story. This letter was read once a year in the 1960's over a mid-western radio station at Christmas time. We present the letter and let it stand on its own merits.

Dear Mom,

I wouldn't dare write this letter to anyone but you because no one else would believe it. Maybe even you will find it hard, but I have to tell somebody.

First off, I am in a hospital. Now don't worry, you hear me, don't worry. I was wounded but I'm okay. The doctor says that I will be up and around in a month. But that is not what I want to tell you.

Remember when I joined the Marines last year; remember when I left, how you told me to say a prayer to St. Michael every day. You really didn't have to tell me that. Ever since I can remember you always told me to pray to St. Michael the Archangel. You even named me after him. Well I have always prayed to St. Michael. When I got to Korea, I prayed even harder. Remember the prayer that you taught me? "Michael, Michael of the morning, fresh corps of Heaven adorning…" You know the rest of it. Well, I said it every day, sometimes when I was marching or sometimes resting, but always before I went to sleep. I even got some of the other fellas to say it.

Well, one day I was with an advance detail way up over the front lines. We were scouting for the commies. I was plodding along in the bitter cold; my breath was like cigar smoke. I thought I knew every guy in the patrol, when along side of me comes another Marine I never met before. He was bigger than any other Marine I'd ever seen. He must have been over 6 feet 4 inches and built in proportion. It gave me a feeling of security to have such a body near me.

Anyway, there we were trudging along. The rest of the patrol spread out. Just to start a conversation I said, "Cold ain't it." And then I laughed. Here I was with a good chance of getting killed any minute and I am talking about the weather!

My companion seemed to understand. I heard him laugh softly.

I looked at him, "I've never seen you before. I thought I knew every man in the outfit."

"I just joined at the last minute," he replied, "the name is Michael."

"Is that so," I said surprised, "that's my name too."

"I know," he said, and then went on saying the prayer, "Michael, Michael of the morning..."

I was too amazed to say anything for a minute. How did he know my name, and a prayer that you had taught me? Then I smiled to myself, every guy in the outfit knew about me. Hadn't I taught the prayer to anybody who would listen? Why now and then, they even referred to me as St. Michael.

Neither of us spoke for a time, and then he broke the silence.

"We're going to have some trouble up ahead." He must have been in fine physical shape for he was breathing so lightly I couldn't see his breath. Mine poured out in great clouds. There was no smile on his face now. Trouble ahead, I thought to myself; well with the commies all around us, that's no great revelation.

Snow began to fall in thick great globs. In a brief moment the whole countryside was blotted out, and I was marching in a white fog of wet sticky particles. My companion disappeared.

"Michael!" I shouted in sudden alarm. I felt his hand on my arm, his voice was rich and strong, "This will stop shortly."

His prophecy proved to be correct. In a few minutes the snow stopped as abruptly as it had begun. The sun was a hard shining disc. I looked back for the rest of the patrol. There was no one in sight. We lost them in the heavy fall of snow. I looked ahead as we came over a little rise. Mom, my heart stopped. There were seven of them, seven commies in their padded pants and jackets and their funny hats. Only there wasn’t anything funny about them now. Seven rifles were aimed at us.

"Down Michael!" I screamed, and hit the frozen earth. I heard those rifles fire almost as one. I heard the bullets. There was Michael still standing.

Mom, those guys couldn't have missed, not at that range. I expected to see him literally blown to bits, but there he stood, making no effort to fire himself. He was paralyzed with fear. It happens sometimes, Mom, even to the bravest. He was like a bird fascinated by a snake. At least that's what I thought then. I jumped up to pull him down and that was when I got mine. I felt a sudden flame in my chest. I often wondered what it felt like to be hit. Now I know.

I remember feeling strong arms about me, arms that laid me ever so gently on a pillow of snow. I opened my eyes, for one last look. I thought I was dying. Maybe I was even dead. I remember thinking, “Well, this is not so bad.”

Maybe I was looking into the sun. Maybe I was in shock, but it seemed I saw Michael standing erect again, only this time his face was shining with a terrible splendor.

As I say, maybe it was the sun in my eyes, but he seemed to change as I watched him. He grew bigger, his arms stretched out wide, maybe it was the snow falling again but there was a brightness around him like the wings of an angel. In his hand was a sword. A sword that flashed with a million lights.

Well, that's the last thing I remember until the rest of the fellas came up and found me; I don't know how much time had passed. Now and then I had but a moment's rest from the pain and fever. I remember telling them of the enemy just ahead.

"Where's Michael?" I asked. I saw them look at one another. "Where's who?" asked one.

"Michael, that big Marine I was walking with just before the snow squall hit us."

"Kid," said the sergeant, "you weren't walking with anyone. I had my eyes on you the whole time. You were getting too far out. I was just going to call you in, when you disappeared in the snow."

He looked at me, curiously. "How did you do it, kid?"

"How did I do what?" I asked half angry, despite my wound. "This Marine named Michael and I were just..." "Son," said the sergeant kindly, "I picked this outfit myself and there just ain't another Michael in it. You are the only Mike in it."

He paused for a minute. "Just how did you do it, kid? We heard shots, yet there hasn't been a shot fired from your rifle, and there isn't a bit of lead in them seven bodies over the hill there."

I didn't say anything; what could I say? I could only look open-mouthed with amazement.

It was then, the sergeant spoke again. "Kid," he said gently, "every one of those seven commies was killed by a sword stroke."

That is all I can tell you, Mom. As I say, it may have been the sun in my eyes, it may have been the cold or the pain, but that is what happened.

Love, Michael

St. MICHAEL PRAYER

To St. Michael in Time of Peace Michael, Michael: Michael of the Morning, Michael of the Army of the Lord, Stiffen thou the hand upon the still sword, Michael, Folded and shut upon the sheathed sword, Michael, Under the fullness of the white robes falling, Gird us with the secret of the sword. When the world cracked because of a sneer in heaven, Leaving out for all time a scar upon the sky, Thou didst rise up against the Horror in the highest, Dragging down the highest that looked down on the Most High: Rending from the seventh heaven the hell of exaltation Down the seven heavens till the dark seas burn: Thou that in thunder threwest down the Dragon Knowest in what silence the Serpent can return. Down through the universe the vast night falling(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Morning!) Far down the universe the deep calms calling(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Sword!) Bid us not forget in the baths of all forgetfulness, In the sigh long drawn from the frenzy and the fretfulness In the huge holy sempiternal silence In the beginning was the Word. When from the deeps of dying God astoundedAngels and devils who do all but dieSeeing Him fallen where thou couldst not follow,Seeing Him mounted where thou couldst not fly,Hand on the hilt, thou hast halted all thy legionsWaiting the Tetelestai and the acclaim,Swords that salute Him dead and everlastingGod beyond God and greater than His Name. Round us and over us the cold thoughts creeping(Michael, Michael: Michael of the battle-cry!)Round us and under us the thronged world sleeping(Michael, Michael: Michael of the Charge!)Guard us the Word; the trysting and the trustingEdge upon the honour and the blade unrustingFine as the hair and tauter than the harpstringReady as when it rang upon the targe. He that giveth peace unto us; not as the world giveth:He that giveth law unto us; not as the scribes:Shallhe be softened for the softening of the citiesPatient in usury; delicate in bribes?They that come to quiet us, saying the sword is broken,Break man with famine, fetter them with gold,Sell them as sheep; and He shall know the sellingFor He was more than murdered. He was sold. Michael, Michael: Michael of the Mustering,Michael of the marching on the mountains of the Lord,Marshal the world and purge of rot and riotRule through the world till all the world be quiet:Only establish when the world is brokenWhat is unbroken is the word.

A Prayer for Angels
Lord, you are the Host of heaven, the King of glory, the head of all the armies
and angels. Please send out your angels and chariots of fire to hedge my son and
all of our troops in so that no weapon formed against them would prosper. Cover
him with the shelter of your wings and keep him as the apple of your eye.
Prepare the way before him and cause him and all our soldiers to be so
spiritually alert that they will hear a word behind them saying, “This is the
way; walk in it” when you guide them.

A Prayer from Isaiah 54
Lord, let no weapon that is formed against our servicemen and women prosper
(Isaiah 54:7). May every terrorist and insurgent be discovered and apprehended
before he brings destruction on others. Please protect the innocent Iraqi
civilians, especially the women and children, and strengthen the Iraqi people to
rise up against the insurgents who are killing their own people. Protect the
Iraqi police and soldiers, and strengthen them to defend their own country
against terrorists. May Your strong right hand hold and keep our soldiers
securely every day. In Christ’s name, amen.

A prayer from Ps. 17
Almighty Father, show our servicemen and women
Your unfailing love in wonderful ways.
Save them with Your strength…
Guard our troops as the apple of Your eye
And hide them in the shadow of Your wings.
Amen.

www.militaryfamiliespray.com

America, our America!

Hold to the vision of Mary,

Mary Immaculate.

Her glory fills the earth,

She is of our race,

Its "solitary boast."

She, alone without sin,

Keeps the doom of wrath from thee,

Who art defending her glory.

She, Conqueror of evil,

Conquers evil for thee,

Who art resisting evil.

America, our America!

Pray always to Mary,

Mary Immaculate.

She, the Mother to nations--

She, the Mother of Christ,

The Lord of all nations.

She guards them and guides,

Subduing their hates,

Inspiring their spirits.

She mourns for the prodigals,

As childless mothers mourn,

Torn by their treasons.

America, our America!

Give thy heart to Mary,

Mary Immaculate.

Join Her prayer of praise,

All Heaven attending,

For our land that is free.

Sing thou, her song of joy,

All nations listening,

Giving thanks to God.

Sing thou the song of souls,

The Magnificat of Mary,

The Magnificat of America.

-Cardinal Francis Joseph Spellman

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

I see Joy

That was the license plate in the back of the red sport sedan in front of me this morning: "I See Joy." This got me to thinking that surely this person in front of me must have the Joy of the Lord in her heart, especially during this time leading up to the Christmas season. My heart glowed red like the paint job on her car.

Until she illegally passed the green car in front of her on a two-lane street. It would seem that the green car wasn't going fast enough. We got stuck at the light on the next block (4 lanes now). The green car in front of me, the red car next to the green, in the right lane, behind the cab of a tractor trailer (without a trailer). The light turns green and the red car has to wait while the trailerless tractor trailer gets going. In my rear view mirror, I see the red car pull out in front of a white van and go around the offending truck.

This gets me thinking, perhaps this woman's name is Joy and all she sees is herself.

Which now has me thinking, ought my license plate to read: "I See Amy?"

O Sapientia: “O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your
strong yet tender care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.” Isaiah
had prophesied, “The spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him: a spirit of wisdom
and of understanding, a spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge
and fear of the Lord, and his delight shall be the fear of the Lord.” (11:2-3),
and “Wonderful is His counsel and great is His wisdom.” (28:29).

We start to pray the "O Antiphons" today in preparation for Christmas. Click on the quote above for a great link to an explanation of what the "O Antiphons" are.

"O come, Thou, Wisdom from on high,
Who orderest all things mightily.
To us the path of knowledge show,
And teach us in her ways to grow."

Thank them, especially at this time of year.

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear..
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.."

" So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

A day that will live in infamy...

"The surprise was complete. The attacking planes came in two waves; the first hit its target at 7:53 AM, the second at 8:55. By 9:55 it was all over. By 1:00 PM the carriers that launched the planes from 274 miles off the coast of Oahu were heading back to Japan. "
-"Attack on Pearl Harbor" from eyewitnesstohistory.com

Pray today for those who were lost on this day in 1941. Pray for all those who died in World War II. Pray for all those who fought in World War II. Pray for those who fight now that they may remain courageous in battle. Pray also for those who lead us now that the Lord might bless them with the ability to make peace.

Veterans Day

Thank you to all of the brave men and women who have fought for our country on any field of battle. If you, like I, have never served in the military, please take time today to think about the sacrifices these folks have made to serve us and keep us safe. Think of the doughboy who made his way overseas for the first time, digging trenches in France, shells exploding over his head. Think of the WACS and Joes who went back 30 years later to fight in WWII, arriving on the shores of France like in the photo above. Think of those who went to Korea to stop the spread of communism. Think of those who served in the steaming jungles of Vietnam and Central America, who sweated in the deserts of Iraq, who climbed in the mountains of Afghanistan, and all other places their President has sent them. They went willingly, bravely, to meet an uncertain future and they returned, asking nothing but for us to every once in a while to stop and say thank you. Ponder the sacrifices they and their families made and I dare you not to choke up a bit.

I love how Veterans Day falls on the feast of St. Martin of Tours. When Martin was 10 (326 AD), over his parents' objections, he wanted to be baptized and began to be taught. He eventually joined the Roman army and was stationed in Gaul (modern-day France) where he was born. One day, by the city gate, he saw a beggar with hardly any clothing. Without much thought, he cut his cloak in half and gave half to the beggar (see picture at right). That night, he had a dream were he saw Jesus wearing his half cloak. He finished his religious training and became baptized. After he left the army, he became a priest, and eventually the bishop of Tours. As a bishop, he passionately defended the Church against the Arian heresy. He died in 397 AD.

St. Martin is the patron saint of soldiers, which makes Veterans Day on November 11 so very cool.

Heavenly Father, through the intercession of St. Martin of Tours, I beg your blessings for those men and women who are veterans of the wars the United States has fought. Please bless them and their families for the sacrifices they have made for our country. Please bless the United States. Please let us be a beacon for freedom and good for the whole world. Mary, the Immaculate Conception, patroness of the United States, pray for us. Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.

Luigi, Mario, and their pumpkin.

September 11

I remember that Sepember 11, 2001 dawned clear and bright. The cloudless sky was a brilliant shade of blue and the sunlight hadn't seemed so clear in a long time.


Primo (almost 8 months old at the time) and I were at home. I was watching TV. Scott and my mom (who was living with us at the time) had left for work already. I was watching a morning news program when they reported that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. What a horrible accident, I thought. Then, a few minutes later, another plane. My mom called, "This is not an accident," she said. I tried calling Scott, but he was working out in the gym, watching everything from an exercise bike.


The Pentagon. Pennsylvania. I called my girl friend, who was living on a Marine Corps Air Station at the time. They were fine.


I thought back to how I had interviewed for a couple of jobs in New York City in the year before. How one of those jobs was at a dot com in the financial district. I was glad I hadn't been offered one of those jobs. I remembered watching the coverage, watching those two towers-which I could see from the nearby highway overpass that I drove almost daily-collapse into dust and smoke. Watching papers from the office buildings fall like snow from the sky. Watching desperate people jump from the windows of those towers. Thinking about the firefighters, police officers, and civilians who were trapped in the rubble. Rejoicing at the recovery of one of the victims.


I remember how in the next couple of days, everyone walked around, numb. I remember how the wind shifted, blowing into our town in New Jersey from the East, from Manhattan, only 15 or 20 miles away as the crow flies. How hazy everything was and the smell that came in through our open windows. The smell of death.


I remember how six months afterward, the pain was lessened and there were two bright lights in the night sky which brought more comfort than I could have guessed as I looked up at them from my house, or anywhere I happened to be in our area.


I remember thinking about how life will never be the same again. This innocence, naivete, that we all had about how safe we were-how what happened in Israel almost every day could never happen here-was gone. How my child, my children to come, would always have September 11 in their history. How Primo would never remember a time when the Twin Towers stood tall, a symbol of American prosperity and our engineering ingenuity.


And how do I answer the questions of the 4th graders I taught in CCD that year? "Mrs. G., how can God let that happen? How could he let those bad guys kill all those people," when I wasn't entirely sure of the answers myself?


I also remember how we all came together, proud to be American. I remember that we were all going to show this new enemy, Osama Bin Laden, what we were made of and how we were not going to be bowed; we would not quake at his shaking fist. We live in the greatest country in the world, damnit!


Looking back now from the distance of 8 years, I wonder, where has that feeling of one-ness gone? Where has the feeling that we really DO live in the greatest country in the world gone? Where did all of that goodwill go?


September 11, 2001, was a day of senseless cruelty, of mass murder. It showed us how we needed each other. It showed us how truly selfless most of us are. Remember those firefighters and policemen, clergy and laypeople, who all rushed into the burning skyscrapers with no regard for their own safety? Where is that sense of selflessness now? Where is the unity?

Will it take another disaster for us to get it back?

The Fourth of July

IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America

When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed....

Husband appreciation weekend

Hot on the heels of the last two posts, I am declaring June 5, 6, and 7 Husband Appreciation Weekend. This weekend, we will, through acts of love, through verbal thanks, and *ahem* whatever else you may think of, show our husbands that we love them; that we are grateful that they decided to marry us and put up with all of our crap until death do us part.

This weekend we will not nag. This weekend, we will be grateful that he folded the wash (even if it was not folded "the right way"). We will pray for him, that the Lord keeps him strong. At least one night this weekend, we will make him what he wants for dinner. We will let him rest in the hammock and keep the kids from jumping on him for at least 15 minutes. We will put aside the honey-do list (or at least thank him for getting to it). We will show him that we think he's the best guy in the world. We will cheerefully say yes when he initiates love. We will show our husbands that we are grateful for him being a man, MY MAN. We will show our husbands that we are grateful for him being here, for showing up.

Who's with me?

Planet Selfish

Mothering Sunday, Mothering Sunday,

Oh, what gratitude --Till Monday!

Have a bit o' bliss

Each one day

Reserved as your

Intended fun day.

Nor should a normal

Got-to-run day

Silence love

Until some someday;

Nor word not light a

Desperate glum day

As we await

Your Mothering Sunday.

Is it wrong for me not to want to get together with anyone but my husband and kids on Mothers Day?

See, I am in the middle of the busiest time of the year for my job. I was thinking yesterday I'd just have everyone here (house is still clean from First Communion Party), but then Scott's mom (half an hour away) decided that she wasn't feeling very "mothers day-y" this year and that she was going to head up to her cabin in the woods that weekend (first chance she's getting all year). My mom and stepmom are in Philly and I just don't feel like spending half the day in the car. I would have them up, but my mom doesn't drive, so that means she come in Saturday on the train, stays over, then goes back on the train that afternoon (or we drive her back home because she doesn't want to hop a ride with my dad and stepmom who live 20 min. away from her).

My MIL not feeling the whole Mothers Day thing is just mind boggling. She said when Scott and I were getting married that she really wanted to see us sometime on Mothers Day weekend every year. It's just THAT important to her. At least until this year.

I have to tell you that I am so not offened that she wants to retreat this year. Because I have wanted that for a couple of years now. Last Mothers Day, I asked Scott when we would get to the point where we got to do what I want to do on Mothers' Day. And what I want to do is sit around and do big fat nothing with Scott and the kids. Or go to the beach with them after Mass. Or maybe plant the phlox I bought. Or paint my front door. But I really don't want to drive to Philly. And I'm not so sure I even want anyone else to come up here either. I just want to hole up and be with my little family.

But I want to do it guilt-free. And if I don't have my mom up (since one brother is in CA and the other brother lives on Planet Selfish), no one will visit her. I would definitely call her, and I'm sure even my brothers will, too (even Selfish brother will at least text her), but I have very complicated feelings when it comes to my mom. It's a long story that I won't go into here.

And I can't go there on Saturday because we have the boys' baseball games until 1:30 or so. Well, I probably could go there on Saturday. I just don't feel like doing that either.

So, if I don't ask anyone up, am I living on Planet Selfish, too? If I decline an invite to come down, does that make me a denizen of that terrible orb? Can I take that day off? Should I just get to Philly on Saturday and suck it up? Is it wrong for me not to want to see my family?

I am looking to be let off the hook, but I will take a swift kick in the pants, too.

don't show this to your hips

...what they don't know can't hurt them.

Here for your eating pleasure is the recipe I use to make Irish Potatoes (buttercream candies). They are called Irish Potatoes because they look like little tiny taters when you're all done. They are ridiculously easy to make and they taste like it took you hours. Here's what you need:

2 sticks of room temperature, really soft, salted butter
7 oz coconut flakes
1 lb. box of confectioners' sugar
bloop of vanilla extract (maybe 1 T. if I bothered to measure)
ground cinnamon to cover, probably about 1/4 cup (see measuring this above)

In a large mixing bowl, thoroughly combine everything but the cinnamon. put cinnamon in a smaller bowl and park it on the side.
Take little bits of the mix in your hand and form them into balls that have the diameter of a quarter. Roll in the cinnamon to coat. Eat and enjoy. Try to save some for other people. Makes about 40 Irish Potatoes. Maybe. Not that I bothered to count.
I used a spoon today to mix it, but my butter was really soft. It took me less than 5 minutes to combine it all, probably closer to 2 or 3. I don't use a mixer ever for this one and I'm not sure how a hand mixer would do. Maybe a stand-up deal would knock it out even faster, but I wouldn't know since I don't have one! ;) Start to finish this took me half an hour. They keep in the fridge for 7-10 days, bu they don't ever last that long in our house.

Got to pack for NOLA. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

I know Christmas is over, but I just can't help printing this letter that Primo left for Santa on the Christmas tree. It is reproduced exactly as written:

Santa Claws,

You can have any of our candy canes tonight. You can come for extra visits anny time.

from.
Primo

p.s. Did you ever hit yore head on the north pole?
p.s.s. Did you give me a wii?
p.s.s.s. can you bring me everything on my list?
p.s.s.s.s. I need a wii!
p.s.s.s.s.s. you should go on weaht wachers.
p.s.s.s.s.s.s. I've been verry good this year.
p.s.s.s.s.s.s.s. merry crhistmas.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel has come to thee, O Israel!

Adeste fideles,
Laeti triumphantes;
Venite, venite in Bethlehem;
Natum videte,
Regem Angelorum:
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus Dominum!

Cantet nunc hymnos
Chorus angelorum,
Cantet nunc aula caelestium:
Gloria, gloria,
In excelsis Deo!
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus Dominum!

Ergo qui natus
Die hodierna,
Jesu tibi sit gloria;
Patris aeterni
Verbum caro factum!
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus,
Venite adoremus Dominum!

O Come All Ye Faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

O Sing, choirs of angels,
Sing in exultation,
Sing all that hear in heaven God's holy word.
Give to our Father glory in the Highest;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

All Hail! Lord, we greet Thee,
Born this happy morning,
O Jesus! for evermore be Thy name adored.
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

Our Christmas card photo

Here are the hooligans for our card photo. Since we are a very disorganized busy family, I didn't order the cards till Monday night and then had to pay $18 for shipping to guarantee that we get them before Christmas day! Don't tell Scott because the shipping cost almost as much as the cards. Good thing he doesn't read my blog.

How's your Advent?

The name on the mailbox read "Griswold..."

photo of a house in the next town by Scott Giglio


Well, no, not really. but it should have. Oy vey! I don't want their electric bill in January! They had crazy stuff like a Santa rocket ship, Santa train, even a booty-shaking Santa. No. you read that right. His booty moved side to side. It was sort of disturbing.

Even sort of funnier was that we first saw this house on Friday night when we all piled into the car to drive around and look at lights. When we went back tonight with the camera, they had actually ADDED lights!!!

In other news, we got our Christmas tree today. We get ours fresh cut at the tree farm in Long Valley, NJ. No, we don't cut it ourselves. A nice college boy does. On the way home, after much travelling about the land of Scott's youth, we stopped in Bedminster for a coffee. Here's photo I took of the sunset:



As I got out of the van to take the picture, Primo asked me why I always take so many pictures of the sky. I don't know. Here is Primo with Curly Sue in the evening light:


And here is Bub, avoiding the camera:

Poor kid's in the way back, no light on him, and then he told me to stop taking his picture. This is the only one I got. Plus I had to crop good ol' Primo out 'cause he's a camera hog.

Fun times! What did you do this weekend?

Now thank we all our God,
with heart and hands and voices,
who wondrous things has done,
in whom this world rejoices;
who from our mothers' arms
has blessed us on our way
with countless gifts of love,
and still is ours today.

O may this bounteous God
through all our life be near us,
with ever joyful hearts
and blessed peace to cheer us;
and keep us still in grace,
and guide us when perplexed;
and free us from all ills,
in this world and the next.

All praise and thanks to God
the Father now be given;
the Son, and him who reigns
with them in highest heaven;
the one eternal God,
whom earth and heaven adore;
for thus it was, is now,
and shall be evermore.

Song by Martin Rinkart

---

Life is a Highway, Part 1

In my line of work, I get to talk to lots of different people who are at different places in their faith journeys.  I get to talk to everyone from the "pray the Divine Office, attend daily Mass in the vernacular and Sundays in Latin" types, to the "I go to Mass on all the holidays: Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, Easter, Mother's Day" types.  

But in general (except among the Latin Mass, Divine Office folks), I get to talk to a lot of people who sign their kids up for CCD so they can "get/make sacraments."  And I encounter an general misunderstanding (miseducation?  misremembering?) of what the sacraments are actually about.  So I've decided we're going to have Back to CCD night and we're going to talk about sacraments: what they are and why Jesus gave them to us.  This talk has been brewing in the back of my head for a few years now and it all just sort of came to me through the grace of God a few weeks ago.  What follows is generally how I'm going to approach this and this is where you come in. 

I need criticism of this approach from any of you who read this.  If you're lapsed from Catholicism, I want to hear from you.  If you're practicing, I want to hear from you.  If you're a priest or religious, I want to hear from you.  If you're looking to "get sacraments," I want to hear from you.  I am interested in challenging ideas people have of the Seven Sacraments.  I know from 5 years of experience, I am going to tick some people off with this talk, but in my line of work, I am always ticking people off.  As long as I'm not ticking Jesus off, I can live with it.  We're both going to be OK.  

And let's remember, this is a parent meeting, not Mass.  Let's start.  

Thanks for coming to Back to CCD Night.  I'm glad so many of you were able to come.  

Tonight we're going to discuss the seven sacraments, what they are and why Jesus gave them to us.  Let's start off with thinking about the following scenario: Let's say that you and your family are going to go on an RV trip around North America.  Gas is 99 cents a gallon (remember those days?)  and the plan is for you to go all over the USA and maybe hit Canada and Mexico while you're driving around.  In your small groups, come up with a list of the sorts of things you would load into the RV so that you had what you needed for the trip.  I'll give you just a few minutes then I'll ask your small groups to choose a person to report back what your group came up with.  

[Now at this point, I would expect answers like: food, change of clothes, soap, first aid kit, sunscreen, money, radio, dvd player, passport, maps (since you'll be going outside of the USA), tool kit, etc.  I'm going to have a backpack or suitcase with props in it on the table next to me that will correspond with some of the answers I'd expect.]

Those are really great answers.  I think you're well-equipped for your journey.  

Let's talk about this journey around North America in a slightly different sense.  Many of you have heard of the concept of faith being a journey.  You're probably not in the same place in your relationship with God that you were when you were four.  And you might not be in the same place 10 years from now that you are today.  Your relationship with God changes as you change.  As you come to rely on Him more, or less, things change.  Most of us don't have the same simple faith that we had as small children.  That's why Jesus reminds us that we need to have the simple faith that children have.  

In my work with families, I have met many people who register their kids for Religious Ed classes so that the kids can "get Sacraments."  I am SO glad that those families are in our program.  There are lots of baptized kids running around today that are not going to RE classes.  If you are sitting here and if your kids are in our classrooms tonight, this matters to you.  And I am glad you're here.  And I know God is glad you're here too.  

When we think about sacraments in terms of something you "get," it sounds a lot to me like they are stamps in our spiritual passports.  And I guess they can be in a sense.  The day of your Baptism or the baptism of your children is a HUGE deal.  Confirmation is a HUGE deal.  First Holy Communion is a HUGE deal.  But I think we're missing something if we think about the sacraments in only the terms of "things to do before I die."  

We need to think about the sacraments not just as stamps in our passports, but in terms of the essential items we pack in the RV so our journey through life into the afterlife goes as smoothly as possible.  

So, you're packing clothes, right?  [pull out a white T-shirt that says "Catholic" on it] Your nice, clean clothes can symbolize Baptism. In Baptism, you are marked for Christ, you are given a share of God's life in the form of the sacramental grace that wipes away Original Sin (the stain on the souls of all human beings-except Mary and Jesus- that is a result of Adam and Eve's first sin) and makes us members of the Church.  

And you're going to need to eat, right?  So you're packing food [pull out loaf of bread] and something to drink [pull out water, juice]? Maybe a little something to make the camping even more pleasant? [pull out a bottle of wine]  The Eucharist, or communion, is something that Jesus gave us to sustain us, to keep us going on Earth so we can get to him in Heaven.  Let's read from the Bible about what Jesus said about this bread that He has given us: [have a volunteer read aloud from John 6, The Bread of Life Discourse].  You're not going to eat only once during your month long trip, right?  You're not going to pack only enough food for one meal, are you?  You won't have enough energy to drive or to enjoy your family or your surroundings, right?  If you're like me, you get downright unpleasant to be around when you're hungry.  The Eucharist is what feeds us spiritually.  The sacramental grace we get from the Eucharist, Jesus' Body and Blood, no longer just bread and wine, is what makes being with the other people in your life even better because it brings you intimately close to God.  You eat His Flesh and Drink His Blood.  It doesn't get more intimate than that.  

But you won't eat with dirty hands.  Of course you wash up before you eat.   So you need your soap [pull out soap labeled Reconciliation].  

Later: Getting cleaned up, and when some healing needs to take place...

Too gimmicky?  On track so far? Reserving judgment until it's all here? Say it in the combox.  

Thanksgiving recipe sharing

My girl Aimee is sharing her sweet potato puff recipe here. Inspired by her, I am sharing some of my favorite fixin's for T-Day.

Firs, the turkey. This bird is the star of the show. A week or two before the first Thanksgiving dinner I had ever hosted (as a hugely pregnant newlywed!), I was occupying my usual spot on the couch and I happened on my favorite food show ever, "Good Eats." My boy Alton Brown was showing us how to do Thanksgiving. Since I had never cooked a turkey before and had gotten sick from stuffing cooked inside the bird the previous year (food poisoning the day before my surprise bridal shower. This bride to be was NOT blushing. I was green.), I was looking to do it a little differently. So I prepared the turkey this way. Everyone raved about how it was the best turkey they had ever eaten. I have been making it the same way going on 6 years now (my wonderful mother-in-law did Thanksgiving last year). It's ridiculously easy and is done in 4 hours. Yes girls, 4 hours. And no basting required. I am not kidding. You are absolutely forbidden to open the oven door at all during the cooking of the bird.

Next, I usually do Ina "The Barefoot Contessa" Garten's smashed sweet potatoes. With all that heavy cream and melted butter, forget about your diet. for one day anyway! Top them with apple slices cooked in butter, cinnamon and brown sugar then pop it in the oven. The best sweet potatoes I've ever had! If your oven has been taken over by your bird, make these a few days ahead and refrigerate. Then put them in your crock pot to heat it through. Saw that tip in Real Simple magazine and did the "DUH!" head smack!

Finally, the sacred cranberry relish. This is a recipe that we have used in our family for 3 generations and I have seen other variations of this online. People who don't like cranberry sauce (like my brother-in-law) love this. You need to do this a day or two ahead:

You need:
1 pound of fresh cranberries
1 orange
1 small can of crushed pineapple, drained
1 cup of sugar
1 small box of Raspberry Jello

Dump cranberries in a mixing bowl to rinse them, pick off the stems and get rid of the squishy ones. Then, chop in a blender or food processor. Put in a medium sized bowl and set aside.

Next, take your orange (I prefer navels since there are no seeds, but use the one you like best. Seeds won't matter-you'll see why), quarter it and chop that in the food processor skin and all. DO NOT PEEL YOUR ORANGE!!!! Empty that into the bowl with the cranberries.

Dump your drained crushed pineapple on top of the orange and berries (drink the juice. It's great!).

Stir the sugar into the berry-orange-pineapple mix. Cover and let sit over night or at least 4 hours. All that sugar takes the bitter and sour out of everything, even the orange seeds, and the seeds will be so small, no one will notice them.

Next day, prepare your Jello as directed STOPPING WITH THE HOT WATER STEP. DO NOT ADD THE COLD WATER! Pour the half-prepared Jello into the cold berry mix, cover, and refrigerate to set it. This takes at least 2 hours. You can pour the whole thing in to a decorative mold if you have one. I don't, so I just leave it in the bowl.

There it is. Happy Thanksgiving!