Last evening, I had a kind of wild shift in St. Mary’s (our infirmary unit).  Around 9 p.m., one of the Sisters told me that the big lights were on in chapel. 
 
There is a balcony there, we call it the choir loft, which overlooks the chapel. 
 
I had noticed the lights a little while earlier, but had kind of assumed that our chaplain was doing something in there.  Being busy, I hadn’t checked back on the situation. 
 
The concerned Sister told me that she had called out: “Is anyone in here besides Jesus?” 
 
I had to chuckle.  It was a dear, but practical witness to Our Lord’s Eucharistic presence.  She knew He was there.  What she wanted to know was if anyone else was there, explaining for this use of the lights. 
 
I told her that I would take care of it and hurried down the stairs to turn off the unused lights in the chapel. 
 
As I entered the chapel, I could here her call out her question again.  I turned off the lights and went back upstairs. 
 
Sometimes, something as mundane as conserving electricity can remind us of Christ’s love, His constant presence with us. 
 
Thanks be to God for these reminders and for the wondrous gift of the Eucharist in which He is always here!

Just a few days ago, I found myself reflecting that I haven’t been asked to help in the kitchen for a while.  I regretfully wondered if those days were over.  Although it’s a lot of work, these duties are kind of fun, too.  I like to be helping and don’t enjoy twiddling my thumbs.
 
My musings were soon put to rest when Karen, our retreat center coordinator, asked if I could help out on Monday and Tuesday. 
 
I was happy to do so.
 
Appropriately, I had recently come across the following passage from Colossians, which is a wonderful inspiration to direct my steps: “And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”
 
On Monday, after making apple bread pudding and serving breakfast, I had decided to make chili for supper the next day.  When I shared this with Karen she kind of chuckled and informed me that chili was, in fact, already on the menu for Thursday when the team would be here for the upcoming retreat. 
 
At this point, I already had a 5 lb. package of hamburger thawing in the fridge.  I quickly decided to make meatloaf instead.  Remembering the abundance of already-peeled potatoes in the cooler, I decided upon a cheesy potato casserole for a side dish. 
 
For dessert, I made a family favorite, pistachio pudding.  I had been given several boxes, first from my aunt and then from my mom when she visited last month.  This was the perfect opportunity to use a couple of them.
 
Things went well, and I was also happy to be able to use some oregano from my plant in the windowsill of our hobby room.
 
Today, now, I’m back to some of my other duties, helping in St. Mary’s (our infirmary unit) and working in the library. 
 
One never knows, though, what the day might hold!
 
The next time I find myself musing about not having done something for a while, it may just be a little nudge from above preparing me to reenter this area of service.  

I’m sorry that it’s been so long since I’ve posted here.  Life gets busy and time gets away from a person!  
 
This past week, I worked close to 40 hours in the kitchen, filling in for one of the cooks who was out.  
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During my time preparing meals, St. Martha and our Blessed Mother are always my special friends and intercessors.  I’m so grateful for their help which enabled me to make meals that people mostly enjoyed rather than starting a fire or putting cumin in my bread pudding again instead of cinnamon (that’s another story - you can ask me some time.).
 
This week, I made turkey rice bake; chili with twice baked potato casserole; corn and potato chowder soup served with calzones,  sloppy joes, green bean casserole, and cole slaw; sauerkraut, sausage, boiled potatoes and dumplings, and warmed up leftovers a couple of times.  We had several visitors, so it was a little bit of a challenge guessing how much food to make.  I was grateful this morning for the chance to sleep in a little and enjoy a slower-paced day.  
 
This evening, I went with Sr. Donna to see the Canadian Pacific’s “Holiday Train” as it made a stop in Hankinson with its colorful lights and musical entertainment.  We weren’t able to hear much as the streets were so crowded that there was no place to park and get out to watch.  When we got back home, I made popcorn for the young people attending Sr. Mary Ruth’s “Youth Night at the Convent.”  
 
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but one thing on my list is practicing the organ for Sunday Mass.  Since it will be Gaudete Sunday, I tried to pick hymns with joyous undertones and cam up with: “Lift Up Your Heads, Ye Mighty Gates” and “O Come Divine Messiah.”  
 
I hope and pray that your Advent, short as it is, is going well.  God bless you all!

It’s been a most unusual summer (and year, for that matter).  
 
I find myself, now, trying to settle in to new surroundings and a new routine.
 
I spent the day yesterday unpacking suitcases of items I just brought back from Grand Forks to our provincial house in Hankinson.  
 
I was surprised and almost embarrassed by how much “stuff” I’ve accumulated over my fourteen years there.   
 
I try to live simply, and take my vow of poverty seriously but, somehow, time marches on, and with it comes any number of items.  
 
Some things I had forgotten I even had.  They sat quietly on my bookshelf while the hours, days, weeks, months, and years passed by.
 
The strangest item I found on my shelf was a big saw! Rather than bring it with to Hankinson, I offered it to our maintenance man in Grand Forks.  I had been gifted it several years ago by one of our apartment residents for the purpose of “butchering” pumpkins.  
I have since learned an easier technique of using a hammer to push the back of the knife down into the hard flesh of these orange cucurbits.
 
Anyway, yesterday as I unpacked and put things away, St. Francis’ example of poverty was in the back of my mind.  
 
I tossed some useless items, brought unneeded notebooks down to the common office supplies area, etc.  I’ll have to do more sorting, organizing, and tossing, though, in the days to come.  
 
Satisfied with yesterday’s progress and having other things on my mind, I haven’t done any more of this today.
 
I have been thinking, though, of Sister Rebecca, whose birthday was today, and remembering the chocolate zucchini cakes I used to make for the double celebration of her birth and Order’s founder.  
 
As I write this, I am grateful for the many blessings that surround me, for community, family, friends, faith, and the wondrous fall afternoon outdoors, to name a few.  I’m also very pleased with the new arrangement of the room here, which is so cozy and homey.

This morning, as Father was praying the Collect, a phrase stood out to me: “The brave shepherd.”  In this prayer, he also referred to us as the humble flock and to Jesus as the brave shepherd. 
 
Brave isn’t an adjective that I usually associate with Our Lord, but it really should be.  As I thought about it more, I realized what heroic courage it must have taken for Him to undergo His passion and death willingly, when He easily could have said “No thanks; I don’t think I’m up for it.” 
 
This bravery of Jesus speaks to me as I am faced with challenging circumstances which are pretty much out of my control. 
 
How do I face difficult days?  Do I run to my room and hide, or do I turn to my “brave shepherd,” relying on His grace and strength. 
 
Unlike Him, left to myself, I do not have what it takes to deal with my crosses.  However, as I prepare for Pentecost, I am reminded to ask Him to send His “Spirit of wisdom and understanding…of right judgment and courage,…of knowledge and reverence” (Rite of Confirmation) to help me. 
 
I need this “Gift of God Most High” to guide, strengthen and sustain me on the journey to where “the brave Shepherd has gone before.”

This guiding, shepherding presence was certainly with me last night as, despite my weariness, I was intent on getting a little table with the Good Shepherd statue set up behind the office for today’s “Good Shepherd Sunday.” 

Sr. Rebecca had always done this before, and I hadn't been able to locate the soft green cloth that she used. 
 
Dealing with another situation that I had not bargained for (and about which I was less than excited), I happened to go with a coworker into Sr. Rebecca’s storage room. 
 
There, sitting out, was the lovely green cloth that she had always used (or one that certainly resembled it). 
 
I spotted it with delight! 
 
After a little work, I had it on the table and a decorative square cloth even in place.  It will stay there for several weeks, if not months!
 
Now, whenever I pass by this area, I can be reminded of the brave Shepherd, on whose grace and help I am completely dependent.

This has been an unusual week, with much for which to be grateful.  However, my gratitude list, in itself, might strike some as unusual.
 
Last Thursday, I was privileged to join two others of our Sisters on a trip to Mundelein, IL for the Institute on Religious Life’s annual meeting, a weekend of sessions to be enriched in our faith and vocation while meeting other religious from around the country.  It truly was a time away for which I was grateful.  The last time I had attended these sessions was as a postulant back in 2005, the weekend that Pope St. John Paul II died!
 
It was a lovely time, except for the fact that somewhere, along the journey, I managed to contract Strep throat.  I got suddenly sick on Sunday.
 
I was kind of in denial about the whole situation until last night.  My lack of energy was Improving and I thought I’d be on the mend, but, then, I woke up with terrible pain in my throat that told me that all was not well.  
 
“Maybe, I do have Strep,” I acknowledged.  
 
Early afternoon, I got into urgent care, and didn’t have to wait long.  After examining my throat, the doctor remarked something to the effect of: “I can run a culture if you want, but I’m quite sure it’s Strep.”  I needed no reassurance, and gratefully accepted a prescription for antibiotics.  
 
I was so grateful for a painless visit, quick attention, and for not even needed to get gagged!  
 
During these days since I’ve been back, I’ve had another cause of gratitude: In our convent here, my room is just down the hall from our chapel, where Jesus stays in our little tabernacle.  I find immense joy and consolation in the knowledge that He is so close.  
 
Even when I’m resting in bed, it is so consoling to remember His nearness, physically.  I am grateful.  
 
Having been away, and not in as close of proximity to Our Lord’s Eucharistic presence, tends to renew and increase my gratitude for this immense gift.  
 
I know that I daily receive countless blessings of which I am not even aware.  
 
I need to continue to remember to say “thank you” to Our Lord for His goodness to me.  

As I sit here at the reception desk, toward the end of my shift, I have a lot on my mind. 
 
Poinsettias from the local garden center arrived about 45 minutes ago.  I’ll need to get them watered and, tomorrow, arrange them in chapel around the stable in front of the altar.  (I won’t go into complications that just got resolved involving our order’s delivery.)
 
Meanwhile, our nice new full length altar cloth hangs over the table and chairs in “the little dining room” near the end of the hallway, hopefully becoming a bit less wrinkled as it waits to be ironed later this evening. 
 
I’m grateful that one of our apartment residents has offered to help hold it (and ‘feed it to me’) as I iron.  With its large size, I find it to be quite a daunting task. 
 
Ironing boards were not shaped for pressing large pieces of fabric, though they do work well for the collars of dress shirts and blouses.
 
But, there’s more…
 
Earlier this morning, I got a couple of calls, to the effect that we would be short an evening aide (in addition to other current staffing constraints).  The ironing expedition, therefore, will take place after I get done recruiting residents for the nurse, distributing bedtime snacks, taking out trash, and doing other light duties up on the men’s and women’s floors.
 
This year, with these and other happenings, I’ve found myself feeling a little bit overwhelmed.  Before we can sing “Silent night…all is calm” tomorrow night, I have quite a ways to go. 
 
(I still want to make festive dessert cups for supper, using no-bake cheese cake, colored with red food coloring, graham cracker crumbles, and a layer of pistachio pudding.)
 
As I recognize that I am now in the “storm before the calm,” I am reminded of the gospel accounts of the calming of the storm at sea, and of on Whom I need to keep my focus. 
 
It’s a good thing we have a time of Exposition and adoration this afternoon!

I went to bed pretty late (for me) last night – it was going on eleven, but I was filled with gratitude.  In keeping with this weekend’s theme of Gaudete, rejoicing, my heart was lifted. 
 
I had just returned from an evening out, having been invited for supper and a pinochle game at the home of a lady from our women’s group and her husband. 
 
They had taught me three-handed pinochle (I was only familiar with four-handed), and I even got to play with their two dogs!  I did have to borrow their lint brush before leaving, as evidence of this had been left behind on the bottom of my jumper!
 
It was such a refreshing break from the humdrumness of these cold, short December days.  I felt truly blessed! 
 
To top it all off, I actually won the pinochle game, with some coaching from my hosts, of course! 
~~~~~~~~~
It seems that this theme of rejoicing is bound to continue in the coming days. 
 
Liturgically, there are a number of special commemorations, my favorite of which is tomorrow, as we honor Our Lady of Guadalupe. 
 
Tuesday, we’ll celebrate St. Lucy, who is so loved and honored in the Scandinavian homelands of many of our ancestors.  She’s also the patron saint of people with vision problems, which is of significance to me. 
 
I have some work to do before her feast day, though, since I’m to make a festive taco dip for our annual staff in-service and potluck Tuesday afternoon.  I have cheese to grate, tomatoes to dice, and olives to slice for this tasty dish.  We already have the scoop tortilla chips to have with it. 
 
On Wednesday, which I’ll always remember as my dad’s birthday, the Church honors St. John of the Cross. 
 
Then, on Saturday, we start the O Antiphons, which are such a special part of these late Advent days.  I’m excited to get up the stand from the basement to display Sr. Elaine’s beautifully calligraphed verses. 
 
During the tough times of life, of which we all certainly have our share, it’s important to keep in mind words from today’s Mass:“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.”  (Entrance Antiphon, Third Sunday of Advent)

A few weeks ago, I got a hair-brained idea:  Wouldn’t it be neat to celebrate St. Nicholas by having our residents put out their shoes the night before his feast? 
 
We always did that as kids, and I brought the idea to our convent.  We’ve been doing it over there for several years now. 
 
We’ve never done it with our residents, though.  Can you imagine preparing fifty goodie bags to put in shoes left outside the doors of their rooms/apartments? 
 
Well, that’s just what I spent the past two hours doing here at the front desk! 
 
I had put the word out about this idea, and said that we’d appreciate donations of little treats for our residents.  The response was heartwarming. 
 
Someone from a nearby food bank brought over excess candy, and a friend of ours brought granola bars.  A family member of a resident brought little gift wrapped items, so I can only guess what these are!  Sr. Elaine even picked up small bags of assorted popcorns when she was in Fargo last week.
 
It’s really neat. 
 
Earlier today, I reminded Sr. Elaine that I need to borrow her Santa hat since I want to wear it tomorrow night when distributing the little goodie bags. 
 
It will be fun! 
 
I hope our residents enjoy the goodies!
 
PS: If you know anyone here at St. Anne’s, please don’t tell them what they’ll be getting from our friend, St. Nick.  He wants his helper to keep it as a surprise!

Earlier this month, we had a wonderful OktoberFest party in our activity room.  It was great, but the staff who put it on over-budgeted a little on the soft pretzels.  The leftovers got put in a plastic bag and stowed away in the fridge. 
 
Monday, the re-appeared again, and were going to get tossed since they weren’t exactly fresh anymore. 
 
Before that could happen, I grabbed the bag and said I’d take them.  Bringing them to the conference room where we eat our meals, I ended up sampling one. 
 
They weren’t too bad (but not too good, either).
 
Then, I had an idea – why not make bread pudding?  Salted caramel’s become quite popular lately, right?
 
I did a little research, and, sure enough, “salted caramel pretzel bread pudding” is a thing!  Multiple recipes online confirmed my hopes.
 
Rather than go through the trouble of making a fancy salted caramel sauce, though, I decided to resort to my “tried and true” recipe which I had come up with during the bagel inundation of 2019/20. 
 
The salt from the pretzels would add a wonderful dimension to this recipe; also, soft pretzels are similar in texture to bagels, so it should work out fine, I thought. 
 
The batch made two pans of “salted caramel pretzel bread pudding,” which turned out to be very tasty.  We enjoyed it with our lunch that day. 
 
Afterwards, we stored some away in the fridge, put I still had a larger pan untouched. 
 
I stuck it in the activity room fridge, planning to serve it for the residents’ snack-time sometime soon. 
 
Yesterday, I found out that they were having a dance with accordion music in the afternoon.  I asked our activity director when snack would be, and found out that she was actually wanting something a little more special (than the customary “package deal”) for the occasion. 
 
This would be the perfect way to use my bread pudding, I figured!
 
I would coax residents down for the afternoon’s entertainment with the small of delicious caramel bread pudding warming in the oven.
 
Sometimes people are less than eager to attend these events, unfortunately, and we’re not opposed to a little good old fashioned bribery at times.    
 
Let it be known: they polished off the whole pan!

As I glanced over Tuesday’s Mass readings, the refrain of the assigned responsorial psalm caught my attention: “Let your mercy come to me, O Lord.”
 
What a simple, yet beautiful prayer! 
 
It resonated deeply in my heart, which has been heavy again of late, amidst some challenging days and circumstances. 
 
This experience, which I will have to delve into more deeply during my prayer time tomorrow, is evidence of the quote from Hebrews, which is used in the gospel acclamation: “The word of God is living and effective, able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart.” 
 
I am grateful for this word, alive in our lives, which helps bring us to the freedom Christ offers, as St. Paul so beautifully stated in tomorrow’s epistle: “For freedom Christ set us free.”
 
In closing, may I ask for your prayers in these challenging times, that His mercy may come to me in abundance? 

I guess I'm always game for an adventure! 

Several weeks ago I had this crazy idea: “Why don't we have a booth at the Farmer's Market in Town Square?  We could sell embroidered dish towels, jams and jellies, crocheted items, etc.”  I further thought that such a venture would be a good way to get St. Anne’s’ name out in the community more, as Sr. Elaine likes to say, it would be good PR. 
 
After talking it over with Sr. Rebecca, who to my surprise endorsed the idea, I completed the application form. 
 
I went on with my summer, with all this in the back of my mind.
 
Shortly before leaving for my home visit, I got word that our application had been approved: we could be a vendor at the Town Square Farmers’ Market. 
 
After coming back to Grand Forks last Sunday, I began to pursue this more, and we decided that the coming weekend would be as good a time as any to try it out.  After all, produce was coming into season, which would bring plenty of potential customers.  I might even find some good garden fresh beets to bring home!
 
This past week, then, I worked hard, making jam, gathering and pricing items, and making signs for the big day. 
 
Two of our apartment residents, who had been frequenting the market this summer, offered to come and help. 
 
So it was that yesterday morning, with the van loaded up, I went downtown and set up our booth.  The resident volunteers joined me a little while later for a couple of hours. 
 
Everything went pretty well, and last evening, as I worked the front desk, I tallied the proceeds, and put unsold items back in our gift cases. 
 
This morning, I needed to be at the front desk by 7 a.m., so I set up for Mass beforehand. It took longer than it should have, though, since I was dragging still from the day before, and also because I hadn’t been there yesterday morning to change things over for Sunday. 
 
I made it, however, and here I am, working my shift. 
 
I was asked yesterday if I thought I would do it (got to market) again.  I responded, “I don’t know…Not tomorrow anyhow!” 
.

Over a week ago, I left for the Twin Cities to visit my family there.  Extenuating circumstances had led to an earlier departure than planned (with a consequent crazy evening of decision making, packing, and preparation).

Catching a ride with a friend of a friend ended up being delightful.  We both work in related fields and share an interest in the Spanish language.  These among other commonalities, were unknown before we got in the car together.  We ended up talking about our work and attending a Spanish Mass together near St. Cloud (again, unplanned).

I really felt blessed!

My week with my mom and siblings held blessings of its own.  I got to see a number of relatives and old friends.  We also spent one day at our friends' farm about an hour south. 
 
That was certainly a highlight. 

Along with the chance to visit, walk, and bike, other happenings included a short trip to Stillwater and a walk to Wisconsin (across the St. Croix) and a tour of the historically significant St. Anthony Falls (which I had never been to before). 
 
An added bonus was the chance to meet up our cousin, who I hadn’t seen for about twenty years.

It was such a blessing to have this time.  It gave me some fresh perspective, and a needed break. 

I am grateful to those who filled in for me back at St. Anne’s, making this home visit possible.

As I hit the ground running now, working the evening shift at the reception desk as I start a new week at work, I would appreciate your continued prayers.

I'm sorry it's been a few weeks since I wrote last.  Between writer's block and other complications, I haven't gotten back here for a while. 

Truth be told, it's been kind of busy...between planting our gardens, helping with the rummage sale, and spending some days helping with projects at our provincial house in Hankinson.

While I was down there, I was grateful to have evening walks with one of my fellow Sisters just about every night.  It was so nice! 

One morning at breakfast, though, we were informed that there seemed to be a mountain lion in the vicinity.  People had heard it screaming.  A day or two later, the report was confirmed. 

We weren't too worried, and continued our evening walks, though avoiding the pasture area where we thought the feline would be more likely to roam. 

We had been advised that, if we saw it, we should raise up our arms so as to appear bigger, and slowly back away from it.  I also heard that mountain lions aren't prone to attack people.

The whole thing reminded me of the scene in the original Parent Trap, where the twins trick their dad's fiancee into making a fool of herself by knocking sticks together as she walked.

It became a little joke throughout my days there, as we reminded each other about danger of the potential intruder.

I went about my daily routine this morning, aware of the fact that it was, indeed, a somewhat significant date.  The Shakespearean admonition, “Beware of the ides of March,” didn’t have much significance at first, but, as the day went on, it was all too relevant.
 
After Mass, as I had just extinguished the candles and was putting things away, one of the candles near the altar flew off its holder and onto the floor, spilling hot wax everywhere in its wake (on the floor, wooden stand, and altar cloth)!
 
I spent the little time allowed to me before 10 a.m. Bible study trying to get the wax off the various surfaces. 
 
There’s good reason I’m not terribly fond of candles!
 
The day continued fairly smoothly for me until one of our Sisters didn’t come and didn’t come for lunch and for a commitment we had. 
 
I walked down to her office to check on what the holdup might be.  She was on the phone with someone who was supposed to be helping her with a problem on her computer. 
 
It turned out that it was all a scam, and I spent most of the afternoon trying to secure her computer. 
 
I felt like I was going in circles!
 
As I write this, the computer is still (after a couple of hours) reverting to “factory settings.”  In the meantime, I had to change email passwords and take other precautions in case the hackers had tried to access important information. 
 
I’m not superstitious, and I mean this in complete jest, but the phrase “beware of the ides of March” will have much greater meaning for me in the future.

Last week in Bible study, one of the songs we used was “Cornerstone.”  Its catchy melody and inspiring words kept circling ‘round in my head for days after. 
 
The words, “Through the storm, He is Lord…” have been coming back again the past day or so…It has been a rather stormy time. 
 
I find dealing with staffing shortages, and people who don’t carry through, stressful and overwhelming.  Last night, I found myself feeling tired, frustrated, and just fed up. 
 
Someone was supposed to come for training for a position we’ve been trying to fill.  She never showed up, and has not responded to messages or phone calls. 
 
What a disappointment!  I had been waiting for a few days for her to start, and hadn’t been as assertive in promoting the job opening because I was hopeful that she would “work out.”  
 
No such luck. 
 
Last night, the stormy weather was starting to get the better of me.  I felt like my boat was bogged and taking on water. 
 
However, through encouragement of a couple of others, I’ve been able to see some light through the dark storm clouds. 
 
I’ve realized that I probably can’t change the weather, but I can change my attitude.  I can try to look at the extra shifts I end up working as something to offer up to our Lord, in union with His own suffering. 
 
This doesn’t make the storm go away, but I’ll fare much better if I keep my eyes on Him, rather than complaining about the inclement weather. 
 
Prayers for a sailor on stormy seas would be greatly appreciated. 

Today, at the dinner table, one of our Sisters shared an experience she had had while filling in at the reception desk last evening. 
 
One of our residents came up, and wanted help taking off her sweater.  At first, Sister and she were going to go in our little library, but there was an outside window there and people would be able to view the private undertaking.
 
Instead, they used a storage room next store. 
 
It was quite the struggle, and Sister got a bit impatient.  The woman had some physical difficulties that made the process quite trying. 
 
Catching herself, Sister gave herself a little pep-talk: “What have you been reading about [in spiritual books] and talking about in your sermons to the residents on Sundays [at the ecumenical church services]?...You’re supposed to serve Christ in these people!”
 
A little while later, the woman was back again.  She wanted help putting on another clothing item. 
 
Laughingly, Sister recalled how she had quickly been given a chance to make amends for her previous impatience. 
 
She hadn’t needed to look for an opportunity because it fell into her lap!

I apologize that it’s been a little while since I posted here.  I’ve been down at our provincial house in Hankinson working on projects for the retreat center, and I didn’t have the password to the site.  If you’d like to check out the new website for the retreat center, just head over to sfcretreats.org.  New brochures will be available in the near  future as well. 
 
This was a very nice opportunity to get away and see our Sisters there, but it was also a bit sad. 
 
While I was there, Sister Edwardine Gerou died from cancer.  I was so grateful to have had the chance to see her these days. 
 
I just returned to Grand Forks less than an hour ago, and am now working a short shift at the reception desk. 
 
Your prayers for Sr. Edwardine and our community would be greatly appreciated. 

Earlier this week, after my shift at the front desk and attending weekly care conferences, I went home for a much awaited job: setting up the nativity scene in our convent chapel. 
 
Ever since my childhood, I’ve been drawn to the crèche!
 
Back home, as we grew up, we had a special stable; my dad had made our wooden stable, and my mom had painted the ceramic figures.  We had real straw from our friends’ farm.  There are photos of me, sitting admiringly in front of the stable in our living room.  One time, if I remember correctly, my mom didn’t know where I was, and she found me there, quietly looking at the scene.  As we decorated, we would reenact the story of the first Christmas, putting the figures in place. 
 
I don’t get to help with all the decorating around here, and in the past, have missed not being able to put up the nativity set some years. 
 
I was glad to be able to do it again this year.
 
Thinking about it now, this life-long love for the manger scene fits in very well with my life, as I am part of a Franciscan community.  It was St. Francis, after all, who first (as far as we know) had the Christmas story reenacted at Greccio. 
 
As our constitutions say, “was captured by the love of Christ in the crib, on the cross, and in the Eucharist.”
 
I pray that St. Francis may intercede for us, and our world now, that we may grow closer to Christ each day, and become more and more like Him.

Yesterday was a busy day! 

After working the front desk, I held an activity for our residents.  We strung popcorn while listening to Advent/Christmas music. 

Toward the end, some humorous stories were shared.  We learned some things about each other that were prior unknown.  It was quite entertaining!

Some of the residents had never strung popcorn for the Christmas tree before, and for others, it had been a long time. 

When we were done and I was putting it on the tree, I was happy that we had just the right amount.  It came out perfect! 

This drew a prayer of gratitude from me as, by this time, I was quite tired, and glad to be done!

What a beautiful fall day! 
 
After work at the front desk, reading hour for our residents, and a little time in chapel, I headed outside to our garden.  I needed to pull the sheets off our peppers that I had placed there last night in case of frost.
 
I just had a short time before I wanted to head over for confession at the local church. 
 
While out in the back yard, I found another squash growing and a couple of tomatoes that were more than ready to be picked.  I brought the tomatoes inside before heading on my way.
 
It was the perfect day for a reflective walk to and from! 
 
As I returned home, it struck me that I could make good on my recent resolution to “avoid the near occasion of sin” by peeling carrots – of all things! 
 
We didn’t have any carrots in our garden, but there’d been a bag of purchased ones in our refrigerator for about of month. 
 
They were just waiting to be eaten. 
 
Instead I, far too easily, grab the nearest high-carb, low-nutrient, food item despite my intent to cut back and eat healthier. 
 
I was prompted, as I walked down the sidewalk, surrounded by beautiful golden leaves and turning trees, to avoid temptation by making healthier food more accessible…a tangible, easy step was buried on the bottom shelf of our fridge! 
 
I got back, and used some of the short time I had in peeling and cutting up several delicious carrots. 
 
I even had a few moments to practice organ for tomorrow before having to be back at the front desk to give the other receptionist a supper break! 

Thursday evening, I was happily able to help sing for a “Night of Praise” (Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament accompanied by some music).  I love this combination of music with adoration!
 
It’s a little bit of heaven on earth, as I told a friend afterward. 
 
Earlier in the week, I’d gotten an email from the liturgy coordinator asking us to meet in the bell tower to practice a bit beforehand.  I had to ask him how to get there, as I’m kind of a rookie at this! 
 
After a little practice, we went to the choir loft, where we spent the beautiful hour. 
 
One word struck me through this experience: blessed.  A couple of the songs we sang centered around this theme of “blessing the Lord.”  Furthermore, I felt truly blessed by this opportunity.
 
Later in the evening, during another conversation, I got to musing about the significantly different uses of the word blessed.  To me, it almost seemed a bit strange that the same word had such contrasting uses, though they all share positive connotations. 
 
We pray “Bless us…and these your gifts.”  We say, “I am blessed by so many good things.”  We sing, “Bless the Lord, O my soul.”
 
As I thought about this linguistic enigma a bit more, I was struck with the roots of the word in the romance languages.  Interestingly enough, our beautiful time with Jesus neared its conclusion with “benediction.”  Bene-diction means blessing!
 
As I thought of that word, I broke it down; bene means good and diction means saying/ speaking. 
 
So, blessing is a good statement, a good word, in a sense. 
 
I pondered how this applies to our various uses of the word blessing.  When we “bless the Lord,” in a sense, we are saying a good word about Him. 
 
It struck me that, in creation, all God had to do was say the word, and it was.  When Jesus healed, He just had to say the word (although sometimes He used touch and other means as well). 
 
When God blesses us, all He has to do is say the word!
 
I’m not a linguist, but these were the ponderings that came from my beautiful experience the other night.