After almost two years of scrimping, saving, and selling quilts another handicrafts, my son and I are less than two weeks away from a long-planned educational trip. When we were trying to decide on the adventure, it was between a tour of the shrines of Italy and a tour of the battlefields of World War II. Can you guess who won on this? Are their fox holes usually on tour in Italy? Yes, we are going to tour the route of soldiers during World War II with some emphasis on the Easy Company troops. I don't think I will have to pack a chapel veil and long skirt for this tour!
My husband very much opted to stay home. He went overseas, once, and that was enough for him. The flights are too long.
In honor of the count down, I spent the morning going over our lists, washing clothes, and making sure we aren't packing TOO much but ARE packing enough. I could easily become frantic while my son is merely extremely excited at his first vacation EVER. My husband, thinking of home cooked meales is saying this all sounded like a better idea ten months ago when we booked it. Seriously, he is happy for us and thrilled that my future history major son gets to experience some history first hand.
We aren't leaving until the middle of May so understand the silence on the blog until June first. God willing, I will be back on line promptly and hope to share some of our adventures. Until then, I will continue my ramblings from day to day until departure.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Rest in Peace and remembering . . .
Rest in peace to a beloved pastor who often reminded us that we have three votes when we reach our personal judgement day. God casts the first vote for Heaven, Satan votes for our place in Hell . . . and the deciding vote is up to us. How will we vote?
Where Charity and Love Prevail . . .
World War II, for most people, started in 1941 when the United States entered the war in Europe. If you lived in Germany, World War II probably seemed more like an extension of World War I.
My mother was born and raised in Germany. She was a young girl during World War II. In Germany, however, the hard times didn’t begin in 1941 and abruptly end when the war was over. Germany was in economic straits after World War I. We won’t go into the politics of life at that time. Suffice to say that many things contributed to poverty and hardship and it didn’t begin with the events of 1941. My mother was born in 1925. Her father died the same year of a lung wound received in the First World War. He spent a good portion of the first war in a French prisoner of war camp with his unattended injury. When he came home, irrevocable damage had been done.
By the time the war was in full force, rationing had long been an ever-present reality in Germany. Rationing in Europe was much different than the rationing in America during the war years. In America, there were usually items to ration. By the middle of the war in Germany, it was unusual to see litter in the streets as every scrap of paper and cardboard was put to use. Having a piece of cardboard to line worn shoes was a blessing. You thanked God if there was black cabbage and rotten potatoes to eat.
The war was finally winding down but relief was tempered by empty stomachs. Somehow, in the midst of all this, my resourceful grandmother acquired a small bag of wheat grain. It was old, hard stuff but could be pounded down enough to bake into almost equally tough bits of ‘bread’. Naturally, thee was no butter or fat available but just the chewing of these almost unyielding breads kept my mother and grandmother hopeful of survival.
With the advance of the American and Russian armies, there were many refugees passing through my mother’s little hometown. Some of them were German soldiers fleeing the defeated army and desperate to locate their families. Many were displaced people searching for a place to settle down and await the final outcome. All were hungry.
As you would expect, there was many a knock on my grandmother’s door by these homeless, searching people. Even though the wheat kernels were the only food in the house, no one left my grandmother’s doorstep without a handful or two of this precious food. The final episodes of the war took time and it was a matter of weeks before food was brought in to feed the starving people. Ration tickets are worthless without foodstuffs to be purchased.
My mother was glad to see an end to the war. Being the only Catholic in a Protestant town during a Nazi reign didn’t have many perks. It was only when the first tanks and trucks of the American forces came in, that my mother and grandmother realized that the small bag of wheat had lasted them. No matter how much they had given freely away, the wheat had not run out until the day needed supplies arrived.
Every time I think about this story, I realize that giving of your surplus is generosity, but true charity is when you share the little you have. “Christian charity recognizes no property.”(Erasmus)
My mother was born and raised in Germany. She was a young girl during World War II. In Germany, however, the hard times didn’t begin in 1941 and abruptly end when the war was over. Germany was in economic straits after World War I. We won’t go into the politics of life at that time. Suffice to say that many things contributed to poverty and hardship and it didn’t begin with the events of 1941. My mother was born in 1925. Her father died the same year of a lung wound received in the First World War. He spent a good portion of the first war in a French prisoner of war camp with his unattended injury. When he came home, irrevocable damage had been done.
By the time the war was in full force, rationing had long been an ever-present reality in Germany. Rationing in Europe was much different than the rationing in America during the war years. In America, there were usually items to ration. By the middle of the war in Germany, it was unusual to see litter in the streets as every scrap of paper and cardboard was put to use. Having a piece of cardboard to line worn shoes was a blessing. You thanked God if there was black cabbage and rotten potatoes to eat.
The war was finally winding down but relief was tempered by empty stomachs. Somehow, in the midst of all this, my resourceful grandmother acquired a small bag of wheat grain. It was old, hard stuff but could be pounded down enough to bake into almost equally tough bits of ‘bread’. Naturally, thee was no butter or fat available but just the chewing of these almost unyielding breads kept my mother and grandmother hopeful of survival.
With the advance of the American and Russian armies, there were many refugees passing through my mother’s little hometown. Some of them were German soldiers fleeing the defeated army and desperate to locate their families. Many were displaced people searching for a place to settle down and await the final outcome. All were hungry.
As you would expect, there was many a knock on my grandmother’s door by these homeless, searching people. Even though the wheat kernels were the only food in the house, no one left my grandmother’s doorstep without a handful or two of this precious food. The final episodes of the war took time and it was a matter of weeks before food was brought in to feed the starving people. Ration tickets are worthless without foodstuffs to be purchased.
My mother was glad to see an end to the war. Being the only Catholic in a Protestant town during a Nazi reign didn’t have many perks. It was only when the first tanks and trucks of the American forces came in, that my mother and grandmother realized that the small bag of wheat had lasted them. No matter how much they had given freely away, the wheat had not run out until the day needed supplies arrived.
Every time I think about this story, I realize that giving of your surplus is generosity, but true charity is when you share the little you have. “Christian charity recognizes no property.”(Erasmus)
Thoughts on civility . . .
When I was growing up, there were various social strata when it came to people. There was, of course, our family with whom we were on close terms. Then there were school friends, after-school friends, and neighborhood friends. There were also a lot of people we knew but only had a nodding acquaintance with for the most part. They were there, we greeted them civilly when we met but we never delved into a deeper relationship on any level.
And, as I was growing up, there were certain proformas to be observed in situations. It seemed that most of my discipline outside the family took place in my formation of behavior in church. I was brought up to realize that although the church was built by man, it was in actuality God’s House and we respected this.
I remember practicing for my First Communion. To avoid excessive talking and moving around the church, the good sisters did most of our rehearsal for the great day outside the church. To be sure, we did have several ‘dress’ rehearsals in church but only after we had mastered our place in line and could behave properly in God’s house. It was drilled into us with kind firmness that we were guests in God’s house. To show our respect, we must enter quietly, bless ourselves reverently and genuflect graciously to show our utmost respect. Since this took place in the fifties, we didn’t have the handicap of trying to locate the Blessed Sacrament in order to pay homage.
When the changes in the Mass and church began, I knew deep down inside that the transubstantiation was still the center of the Mass. I stepped aside in the wake of the exodus of Catholics who left because Mass was not as they knew it or wanted to know it anymore. As they left, the ones still in attendance seemed to take a more casual viewpoint of God. Instead of our Lord and Master, many considered Him less in His role as our Creator and more of a forgiving Pal. As I have gotten older, I know that you can’t be a parent and a pal to your children. Friends are on an equal basis and equality cuts down on respect to a degree. You don’t often look up to a friend.
I have noticed that as people have started considering God more of a friend than a Father, their consideration of Him has lessened. Believing and honoring don’t always go hand in hand. Thinking on this, I have started to reflect on my various levels of friends that I categorized in my growing up years. Many times I have seen genuflecting replaced by a nod in passing to the tabernacle. I remember my thoughts on people with whom I had a nodding acquaintance with---I greeted them civilly but never thought of encouraging a deeper relationship.
And, as I was growing up, there were certain proformas to be observed in situations. It seemed that most of my discipline outside the family took place in my formation of behavior in church. I was brought up to realize that although the church was built by man, it was in actuality God’s House and we respected this.
I remember practicing for my First Communion. To avoid excessive talking and moving around the church, the good sisters did most of our rehearsal for the great day outside the church. To be sure, we did have several ‘dress’ rehearsals in church but only after we had mastered our place in line and could behave properly in God’s house. It was drilled into us with kind firmness that we were guests in God’s house. To show our respect, we must enter quietly, bless ourselves reverently and genuflect graciously to show our utmost respect. Since this took place in the fifties, we didn’t have the handicap of trying to locate the Blessed Sacrament in order to pay homage.
When the changes in the Mass and church began, I knew deep down inside that the transubstantiation was still the center of the Mass. I stepped aside in the wake of the exodus of Catholics who left because Mass was not as they knew it or wanted to know it anymore. As they left, the ones still in attendance seemed to take a more casual viewpoint of God. Instead of our Lord and Master, many considered Him less in His role as our Creator and more of a forgiving Pal. As I have gotten older, I know that you can’t be a parent and a pal to your children. Friends are on an equal basis and equality cuts down on respect to a degree. You don’t often look up to a friend.
I have noticed that as people have started considering God more of a friend than a Father, their consideration of Him has lessened. Believing and honoring don’t always go hand in hand. Thinking on this, I have started to reflect on my various levels of friends that I categorized in my growing up years. Many times I have seen genuflecting replaced by a nod in passing to the tabernacle. I remember my thoughts on people with whom I had a nodding acquaintance with---I greeted them civilly but never thought of encouraging a deeper relationship.
Cooking because I'm blessed . . .
I cook for my family every night. We enjoy a meal out, once in awhile, but we always prefer to eat at home. Whether it is just my husband and myself or the addition of any or all my children, I cook the main meal every day. I don't do it to show off or because it is my main 'hobby'. I do it because I'm blessed to have a family and because I take it as a responsibility to raise them and keep them in the best health I can through nutrition.
Sure, my children love a soft drink or greasy fast food and we do let them have this treat. I would, however, be remiss in my God-given blessing if I let the majority of their food intake be junk food. Until your children leave home, you ARE responsible for everything they eat at your table. Putting a fast food bag of burgers and fries in front of them is not doing your job.
We had a relative visiting, years ago, and as he enjoyed the meal, he remarked that he KNOWS we don't eat like this every day. My husband looked confused and the relative was very abusive in denying for us that we do not have a good meal every day. He had a stay-home wife who didn't cook and couldn't believe that I did do my job.
My favorite 'insult' comes from other mothers who say I just cook because I like to and that I'm good at it because I had an inborn talent. Uh, I think my mother would have mentioned it to me if I had been born with a mixing spoon in my hand.
I was a latch-key kid and homecooked meals were sparse. I just didn't want to do that to my children. I was an adequate cook when I got married. The more time I spent working around dietary requirements, allergies, and such, the more I became interested in how food went together. I am blessed with a supportive husband who knows he won't get into trouble if he gives me a super mixer or some unique kitchen utensil for a gift.
Yes, I love to cook and bake because I take it as a wholesome, creative enterpise for my family. No, it didn't come easily and I continually learn new things. I like to be in the kitchen and present a nice meal because it is part of my responsibilty and job to my family. I decided to like the process rather than complain about it because I early on realized that it is a blessing from God and I wanted to honor it.
Sure, my children love a soft drink or greasy fast food and we do let them have this treat. I would, however, be remiss in my God-given blessing if I let the majority of their food intake be junk food. Until your children leave home, you ARE responsible for everything they eat at your table. Putting a fast food bag of burgers and fries in front of them is not doing your job.
We had a relative visiting, years ago, and as he enjoyed the meal, he remarked that he KNOWS we don't eat like this every day. My husband looked confused and the relative was very abusive in denying for us that we do not have a good meal every day. He had a stay-home wife who didn't cook and couldn't believe that I did do my job.
My favorite 'insult' comes from other mothers who say I just cook because I like to and that I'm good at it because I had an inborn talent. Uh, I think my mother would have mentioned it to me if I had been born with a mixing spoon in my hand.
I was a latch-key kid and homecooked meals were sparse. I just didn't want to do that to my children. I was an adequate cook when I got married. The more time I spent working around dietary requirements, allergies, and such, the more I became interested in how food went together. I am blessed with a supportive husband who knows he won't get into trouble if he gives me a super mixer or some unique kitchen utensil for a gift.
Yes, I love to cook and bake because I take it as a wholesome, creative enterpise for my family. No, it didn't come easily and I continually learn new things. I like to be in the kitchen and present a nice meal because it is part of my responsibilty and job to my family. I decided to like the process rather than complain about it because I early on realized that it is a blessing from God and I wanted to honor it.
Abraham Lincoln in person!
We were blessed to attend a performance by an Abraham Lincoln presenter, yesterday. My husand and I had met 'Mr. Lincoln' quite by accident back in Februrary and I encouraged my husband to see if he could get him for an event at his library. I invited two, good friends as well as their children to come along and I brought my seventeen year old son who is a history buff.
Since my husband and I had already spend almost two hours with 'Mr. Lincoln' at our impromptu meeting, I didn't expect to be double enthralled, again, with his presentation . . . but I was and his lengthy presentation seemed like mere minutes.
I think 'Mr. Lincoln's' secret is that the presenter has so many of the same values and traits as the historical President Lincoln. The fact that he is practically the image of that great president just add to the whole meeting.
The presenter does his whole performance in the first person as Abraham Lincoln, himself. He didn't seem to so much 'act' but 'live' that time in history. And, his knowledge of past and present day politics made the talk very enlightening. His emphasis was on the young people and how they CAN be anything they want to be if they use the learning opportunities that life sends their way. The real President Lincoln loved children and so does this presenter. He visibly brighted up every time a young person asked a question and treated them all with respect and dignity.
Later, he was holding court outside the assembly room at the library. A little girl came down the hall, stopped dead when she saw ABRAHAM LINCOLN in the flesh, so to speak. He stopped talking to the adult at hand and immediately said, "Well, hello, young lady? How are you today?" She grinned from ear to ear and replied, "HI! Mr. Lincoln!" He immediately asked if she like to read books, liked coming to the library, etc. He was an expert at mixing entertainment with the important aspects of life.
Since my husband and I had already spend almost two hours with 'Mr. Lincoln' at our impromptu meeting, I didn't expect to be double enthralled, again, with his presentation . . . but I was and his lengthy presentation seemed like mere minutes.
I think 'Mr. Lincoln's' secret is that the presenter has so many of the same values and traits as the historical President Lincoln. The fact that he is practically the image of that great president just add to the whole meeting.
The presenter does his whole performance in the first person as Abraham Lincoln, himself. He didn't seem to so much 'act' but 'live' that time in history. And, his knowledge of past and present day politics made the talk very enlightening. His emphasis was on the young people and how they CAN be anything they want to be if they use the learning opportunities that life sends their way. The real President Lincoln loved children and so does this presenter. He visibly brighted up every time a young person asked a question and treated them all with respect and dignity.
Later, he was holding court outside the assembly room at the library. A little girl came down the hall, stopped dead when she saw ABRAHAM LINCOLN in the flesh, so to speak. He stopped talking to the adult at hand and immediately said, "Well, hello, young lady? How are you today?" She grinned from ear to ear and replied, "HI! Mr. Lincoln!" He immediately asked if she like to read books, liked coming to the library, etc. He was an expert at mixing entertainment with the important aspects of life.
Truths behind the quotes . . .
Good quotes, especially the first one. A person never really considers the ramifications of an idle moment and where it could lead. Impatience can often let an opportunity slip by. I liked the reminders behind the wise sayings!
"There art two cardinal sins from which all others spring: Impatience and Laziness."
-- Franz Kafka
"The point of quotations is that one can use another's words to be insulting."
-- Amanda Cross
"Politicians should read science fiction, not westerns and detective stories."
-- Arthur C. Clarke
"You can't have everything. Where would you put it?"
-- Steven Wright
"There art two cardinal sins from which all others spring: Impatience and Laziness."
-- Franz Kafka
"The point of quotations is that one can use another's words to be insulting."
-- Amanda Cross
"Politicians should read science fiction, not westerns and detective stories."
-- Arthur C. Clarke
"You can't have everything. Where would you put it?"
-- Steven Wright
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