St. Dominic's Compassion

My  Lay Dominican Chapter is still celebrating the blessed solemnity of Saint Dominic.  We did some reflections on the stories about Saint Dominic, today.  There is one story that relates the situation of a man who unfortunately had been taken into slavery.  Dominic was going to offer himself up to replace the man, but the captive was released before that exchange could happen.

Dominic often could be heard crying, himself.  And if you could understand his mutterings, you would have heard begging God's mercy for us sinners.  One of the brothers wrote:

So wonderfully tender-hearted was he touching the sins and miseries of men, that when he (Dominic) came near any city or town from where he could overlook it, he would burst into tears at the thought of the miseries of mankind, of the sins committed therein, and of the numbers who were [headed for destruction].  (Conway and Jarrett, Lives of the Brethren, p. 56) as quoted in Praying with Dominic by Michael Monshau, o.p.

Meditating upon this quote, we prayed.

Try praying the name Jesus until you have focused on His presence within you.  Think of one of your own shortcomings, and pray:

Lord, have mercy.

Think of another and pray:

Christ, have mercy.

Keep on going:

Lord, have mercy.

Pray like this until you can't think of any more faults.  Now ask Jesus to give you the graces necessary to become a more merciful and compassionate person.

Mimosa

Today is the Feast of Saint Dominic.  I began the day with breakfast with my friends from the Hope of Bethany Pro-Chapter.  Sister Ruth surprised us by bringing a couple of our former "cloistered brothers."  It was wonderful to see them.  We toasted with orange juice because St. Dominic liked oranges.  He planted some orange seeds outside of Santa Sabina in Rome.  Santa Sabina has been the home of the Order of Preachers, since the 13th century.

There is still an orange tree growing and producing oranges at Santa Sabina.  No doubt it is a descendent of St. Dominic's original.

We were wishing we had some champagne to toast this happy occasion because orange juice and champagne make a drink called mimosa.  The toast would be Veritas!

Impossible Love

Avalon by Vanessa Morgan is for cat lovers.  Only a lover can understand the overwhelming, self-denying devotion of the beloved.  Only a cat lover can appreciate Avalon.  However, anyone who has ever experienced all-out obsessive love will be able to identify the emotional soul-lock love between Avalon and the author.  Parents with handicapped children will understand.  Spouses with dependent mates can identify.  Maybe it’s dependency?  Maybe it’s what love is all about—“in sickness and in health.”  Whatever!  Does it matter?  Not to the beloved; it’s wonderful; it’s enriching emotional fulfillment.  Life is forever altered.

How did this happen between Avalon and the author?  Avalon is about a cat and his owner.  Avalon is a Turkish Van—a rare breed.  The author picked up Avalon off the street and brought him home. He didn’t adapt well.  He terrorized the other pets and even the people that Vanessa Morgan brought in their lives.  Having had a cat like this, I understand the situation.  Everyone wants to get rid of the offending cat, but the cat owner feels it must defend the cat.  No one understands.  Besides, Avalon helped Vanessa grow up.  By that I mean, the cat and the owner were  sympathetico.  They understood each other.  How can you get rid of your soul mate?

 Vanessa in explaining the emotional bond in the conclusion states:
Many argue that my relationship with Avalon was unhealthy, but it was actually the opposite.  We became emotionally stable beings because we had each other.  We had both been our worst selves when we met, but we had bonded through an unwavering desire to be love unconditionally and to love just as much in return.  What we thought impossible, we had found with each other.

Vanessa even used Avalon in her work.  The cat was a character in her books and movies.  Vanessa and Avalon were a team.  You couldn’t have one without the other. 

There was one boyfriend, Gilles, who understood.  He was a keeper.  Anyone who understood Avalon and the beautiful bond between Vanessa and Avalon was special.  I was happy to read in the ending that Gilles was a part of Vanessa’s life.  Love expands.

If you’re a cat lover, you’ll love Avalon by Vanessa Morgan.  If you’re someone who loves with abandon, who jumps in with their whole heart, soul, and body, you’ll enjoy this memoir.  I know I did.

Links:

Amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/Avalon-Heartwarming-True-Cat-Story-ebook/dp/B00XC1NE4I/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1438957388&sr=1-1&keywords=avalon+vanessa+morgan

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25505135-avalon?from_search=true&search_version=service

The Crown and Scepter

Whenever I go to Portuguese churches I see a crown and scepter.  I've seen it at St. Dominic's in Swansea, MA, where most of the people are from the Azores, and I've also seen it at St. Anthony's in East Falmouth, MA, where the people are mostly from Cape Verde.

What do the crown and scepter represent?  The story goes back to the 13th century Queen of Portugal, Queen Saint Isabel.  There was a lot of contention between her husband, Dom Diniz, and her son.  Queen Isabel feared the son would break and battle with his father.  So she prayed to the Holy Ghost to make peace between them.  Thankfully, the son and father resolved their disagreements and peace reigned.  In thanksgiving, the queen held a ceremony every year in honor of the Holy Ghost.  She put a poor man on her throne and crowned him with her crown.  This, legend has it, was the birth of the Holy Ghost Festival in Portugal.

Another story tells of Queen Isabel of Portugal, also.  She was known as the Holy Queen and devoted to the Holy Ghost.  There are many stories that demonstrate the Queen's piety, compassion, and service.  They tell of earthquakes, volcanoes, and other natural disasters.  The queen would gather the people together and they would pray in appeal to the Holy Ghost.  On Pentecost, the people would be saved.  Then the queen and people would process through the streets of Lisbon to the cathedral where the queen would place her crown on the altar as an offering of thanksgiving for the favors the Holy Ghost had given her people.  She also began a tradition of feeding the poor on Pentecost.

Nowadays, the royals have forgotten the crowning, but the common people haven't.  From Easter to Pentecost, the people celebrate the Holy Ghost.  Some of the people are given the honor of keeping the crown, flags, ornaments, etc. to make a little shrine in their home, decorated with white paper and flowers for a week.  In the evening, the hosts, relatives, neighbors, and guests gather in front of the shrine to pray the rosary and worship the Holy Ghost.  Of course, food is a big part of the gathering.
On Sunday, a procession is made carrying statues, the crown, flags and flowers.  At the church, the priest blesses the crown and the people.  A banquet is served with Holy Ghost soup.

The Holy Ghost Festival is a wonderful way for the Portuguese to celebrate their heritage.  It is important for the children to see their family cultural traditions.  It is also wonderful for non Portuguese to see and celebrate.  Worshipping the third person of the Blessed Trinity is a custom everyone should cultivate.

Argonauta 2015

This is the day my book club, Argonauta, met to choose our book selections for the year.  It did not begin very well.  We planned to meet at a certain place for breakfast.  However, when we arrived we found out that the place was closed for the week.  It was their vacation.  So we made a few telephone calls and settled upon another place, in a different town, for lunch.

This place was wonderful.  We arrived at 11:00 AM and they opened at 11:00 AM.  That meant that we were the only people in the restaurant.  They'd be no chance of us being kicked out due to our rowdy behavior.

Two hours later, after much laughter, arguing over Atticus Finch, (Iconic character), and clapping, we came up with the following:

The Boston Girl by Anita Diamant

Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee

The Nightingale by Kristen Hanna

A Desperate Fortune by Susana Kearsley

What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty

The 100 Year Old Man Who Climbed Out The Window And Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson

The Boys in the Boat by Daniel James Brown

Half a Yellow Sun by Chimamand Ngozi Adichie

The Sandcastle Girls by Chris Bohjalian

Me Before You by Jojo Moynes

St. Dominic's Yoga

My Lay Dominican Chapter is gearing up for St. Dominic's Feast Day.  Today we watched a real live demonstration of St. Dominic's Nine Ways of Prayer.  Afterwards, one of my "cloistered brothers" quipped, "It looks like Yoga!"

We all laughed and from now on St. Dominic's Nine Ways of Prayer will be known as Dominican Yoga.  This led to a discussion of different ways of prayer.  Brother James added an interesting concept that I never thought of before.  Brother James remembered that at one time we had a volunteer that used to come to Mass with us.  Afterwards, she lead us in some yoga exercises.  This volunteered said that yoga was spiritual to her because she considered yoga led her to prayer.  We didn't know what to think of that, but to be polite, we joined her.  After all she volunteered to teach us yoga.  She wasn't being paid.

So after Mass, Mary Jane led us in some yoga.  We all laughed, especially at each other.  But we were laughing together, helping each other, and sharing the experience.  Brother James said that he tried doing yoga back in his cell, but it wasn't the same.  In fact, he considered it a failure.

What was missing when Brother James was alone was the community.  Also the timing.  When we did the yoga after Mass, it did feel spiritual--like continuing our prayers after Mass.  We were with our confreres and sharing the experience.

That's two of the four pillars of Dominican spirituality: prayer and community.  We decided to baptize yoga and make it Christian.  From now on our yoga will be known as Dominican Yoga, and St. Dominic's Nine Ways of Prayer are in it.

The House Across the Street

As I opened my front door, I noticed that something was different.  The house across the street was gone.  I guess I must’ve blinked a hundred times.  I looked around and the rest of the street was the same. 

It wasn’t an empty lot with a driveway, either.  It was a wooded lot.  Am I crazy?  There was no one around to ask.

So I just got in my car and drove to work.  Should I call the police?  Nah, someone probably already did.  It’s odd that there were woods there.  If the house was somehow demolished during the night wouldn’t there be rubble?  Even if everything was cleared away wouldn’t there be an empty space?  How did all those trees pop up overnight?

At work, everyone laughed at me.  “Was there a pink elephant darting between the trees?”  After my second cup of coffee, I agreed with everyone.  I must have imagined it.  It must have been some trick my half asleep mind was playing. 

Still.  I couldn’t wait to get back home, after work.

Arriving home, I couldn’t believe it.  I mean, I believed it, but…but!  The house was back.  It looked just like it always did. 

At supper, I told hubby the story.  He said I must have dreamed it.  Maybe it was some kind of mind trick like déjà vu tricks the mind.  I didn’t know what to think, so I didn’t—think.

The next morning as I opened by front door, the house was gone again.  This time I took out my smart phone and took a picture.  “Hrmph!  This will show those nay sayers!” 

But my co-workers weren’t impressed.  They didn’t know what was there before the woods.  “Why didn’t you ask one of the people in the woods?” 

“Huh?”  I looked at the pictures and there were people in the woods!  I never noticed them.  They were walking around talking, or something.  Some of them had cameras.

“Oh.”

Later when I showed the pictures to hubby, he thought I was pulling his leg.  “C’mon.  You didn’t take this picture here.  You took this somewhere else.  Is this an early April Fool’s Day joke?”

I didn’t know what was going on.  But since I didn’t sleep well that night, I came up with a plan.  I was going to get up early with hubby.  Then I’d show him the woods across the street where the house used to be.  But I couldn’t sleep at all.  I was too jazzed.  So I got up.  I looked out the window.  The house was across the street, as always.  Well, not “as always” but it was where it belonged. 

I made us a big breakfast.  I looked out the window, again.  The house was there.  Hubby got up and we ate breakfast.  I didn’t mention the house but I kept checking the window.  It was still there.

Hubby did say that he was glad the house across the street kept disappearing because it got me out of bed early enough to make breakfast.  “Wise guy.”

As Hubby kissed me goodbye a van pulled up in front of the house across the street and dropped off some people.  Another van drove up and dropped off some stuff—equipment, I guess. 

I watched (open mouth) as some men climbed up the roof and dropped a camouflaged tarp over the front of the house.  Then some of the other people carried trees and placed them all over the front yard.

Voila!  The house was gone and replaced with a wooded lot. 

I wasn’t going crazy.  But why were they doing it?

I walked over and asked. 

They were making a movie.  The homeowners were on vacation and wanted a movie made of how their parents had built their house, starting with chopping down the trees by hand.  It was going to be a surprise for their parents.

“Oh.”