One simple little summer dress. One HUGE act of kindness

Mona bought the dress. I bought the sweater!

Imagine my humiliation when our then live-in student researcher, Mona, found me weeping—honest to gosh weeping—over an email I'd just received a little over a year ago.

"What's wrong?" 

To my shame, I was actually tempted to tell Mona I'd just received incredibly bad news...like a death, or a declaration of war, or the cancellation of "Mad Men." Anything but the truth.

The truth? I. Didn't. Have. A. Thing. To. Wear.

Trite, right? The age-old complaint of women. But in my case, it was true.

You see, I'd lost a lot of weight.

I'd only planned to lose the 10 pounds my doctor suggested. Instead, I lost about 30. No, no, I wasn't sick...it just happened. And I know that many of you would see that as good news, but I didn't. Oh, well, I didn't mind about the weight, but...

I had no clothes that fit. None. And I didn't know how to shop.

True. I'm a woman of a certain age and never, ever, learned the art of shopping for clothes. Whenever I needed anything—which was rare—I could generally peek into my closet and find something. I tended to wear the same things. A lot. My closet consisted of (1) one pair of jeans (2) three long skirts and (3) an enormous supply of sweaters, mostly purchased from Good Will. Or borrowed from my husband.

"But Kelly, why were you weeping?"

Well, here's the really embarrassing part. I'd just received an email from my friend asking me to sub for her at Mass the next Sunday as reader. As a rule, I'd always been happy to help out. But this time it was sadly (to me) plain to see...I didn't own a dress, skirt, or anything halfway respectable to wear. Not anything, anyway, that wouldn't fall off me as soon as I reverenced the great Cathedral of the Holy Cross altar.

My husband had a suggestion: "Why not just go out and buy something?"

I looked at him as if he'd grown an extra nostril. Didn't he realize? I didn't know how to shop for clothes and what's more, I hated it. Didn't he remember that, in preparing for our wedding three years earlier, I'd had to enlist the help of a girlfriend who eventually picked everything out herself? Didn't anybody understand???

Mona did.

The next evening, she sailed intfo my office carrying a bag. "For you," she said. Curious, sort of, I peeked in and saw the smallest dress I'd ever seen. "For you?" I asked, thinking I'd misunderstood. "Nope," she replied. For you." I stared at her. "Mona, this is awfully nice of you and all, but this won't fit me, and besides..." I was terrified of the dress. "Try it on," she said firmly. (When Mona says something "firmly?" There's no argument.)

So I gave in with good grace, grimly laughing at the size tag and then, anticipating resistance from my body, gingerly pulled the dress over my head. And almost stopped breathing. Damn. The thing fit!

I stayed in the bathroom for awhile, looking at myself in the mirror. Who was this person?

Finally, I crept out and faced Mona and my husband. And their smiles. Casually, Mona tossed me a pair of—size small, mind you—brown tights. "These go with it," she explained.

And so they did. And the next day, I screwed up my courage and went to the store and bought an inexpensive little—little!—sweater to wear with the little dress because the weather was cool, still.

And called my friend to tell her I'd be able to read for her at Mass after all, and thanked Mona again and again...and learned how to shop. On my own. At my age, it's about time.

I wore that little dress last Sunday and intend to wear it tomorrow for a meeting.

And every time I even look at it, I'm reminded of Mona. She thought it was a little thing. She's wrong. The dress might be little…but her act of kindness was, and remains…ENORMOUS!

P.S. Lately I've even mastered the act of self-control when it comes to shopping…much to my husband's relief :-)

Having fun with the saints!

You love the saints. But gee, there are so many! 'Course, when we say "all you angels and saints, pray for us," that pretty much covers it. Yet let's say you're like me (Quick! Pray an Ave!) and would like to...well, customize your litany.

Here's how I do it.

I generally ask the saints to pray for me after praying the Angelus. (Okay, the Regina Caeli during Easter.)

Start with Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Natch!

Most Sacred Heart of Jesus/Have mercy on us.
Immaculate Heart of Mary/Pray for us.
Saint Joseph/Pray for us.

Okay, here's where the "customizing" comes in.

I used to enjoy the supreme privilege of bringing the Blessed Sacrament to children, cancer patients, and cardiac patients on Tuesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. So, on those days, I ask Our Lady, Health of the Sick, Our Lady, Mother of Compassion, Saints Gerard, Peregrine, and John of God for their prayers.

Personalize your litany even more.

I love the apostles, and so I always include Saints Peter and Paul, as many apostles as I can remember, and the notable disciples (Saints Stephen, Philip, Martha, and Mary Magdalene, e.g.)

Then I look at the spiritual leaders in my life, which prompts me ask:

Saints Francis, Clare, and Agnes of Assisi; Saints Benedict and Scholastica; Saints John the Baptist (my Cardinal Archbishop is Sean O'Malley who was ordained on this saint's Feast Day) and Bernard for their prayers.

Still with me?

I live in Boston. Saint Patrick is the patron of our Archdiocese. Saint Botolph is the patron of our city. Pray for us!

Okay, now to churches and chapels I've attended, which includes: Saints Anthony of Padua. (I also regularly attend Saint Francis Chapel, but since the new Pontiff has been our Rock? I've already asked the good Saint Francis et al for his prayers.)

And let's not forget the Venerables and Blesseds!

A fan of the Oblates of the Virgin Mary, it'd be silly not to ask their founder, Venerable Bruno Lanteri, for his prayers. And gee...when I was born, Venerable Pius XII was pope, so he's included, along with my Mom and Dad's all-time favorite television host, Venerable Fulton Sheen!

Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta has always been a favorite, and her friend, Blessed John Paul II as well. (How cool is it to have been alive and kickin' while Blesseds and Venerables were still walking the earth?)

You can add, for instance:

Your own patron, your spouses, your children's, your siblings'...the point isn't to include every saint in heaven, but to have fun...and to try and connect those causes and people who are important to you with your request for prayers.

The thing is? Saints are our friends!

So, chatting them up while walking, driving, taking a shower, or in the privacy in your room should be at least as much fun as a good heart-to-heart chat with your best buddies.

Try it! And, if you've a mind to, let me know how you pray with our great cloud of witnesses!

May God continue to bless you.

If you MUST be greedy, be greedy for a priest's blessing

"May God consecrate and sanctify these hands, through our unction and Thy blessing, that whatsover things they shall bless, they may be blessed, and whatsoever things they may consecrate, they may be consecrated, in the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ."

The above, among other prayers, is prayed by the bishop who, in Jesus's Name, confers upon the newly ordained priest, the right of powerful—and I'm talking powerful here—the right of blessing.

Because a priest's blessing is not only powerful...it can and should be given generously!

There's an erroneous thought going on among some folks that—I don't know, maybe like the indelible mark of Baptism...maybe—that a priest's blessing should be given only once. Like once a day. Like it's a vitamin or something. I don't know.

All I know is? This thought is...bull.

A priest's blessing is a powerful gift! It should be sought out, fought for, looked for, greedily asked for, happily asked for...and, in turn, the priest should, by all rights, be glad—ecstatic even!—to answer the request for it.

So. You received the general blessing after Mass and you think that's all you're entitled to?

WRONG! You are entitled to a blessing of yourself, your house, your car, your children, your objects of devotion...at ANY time you encounter a priest.

If you don't ask for this, you're giving up on a gift from God.

(Priests? If you're asked for

your blessing—never mind the inward (and God forbid, outward)—sighing. Rejoice that you've been given the supreme privilege of being able to do so. And DO it.)

May God continue to bless you.

This would be scary if I weren't a Christian, Maxine

Watch what you say...

So, my husband snores. A few days ago, I totally lost it and said and did some shameful things during the night, having been robbed of My Precious Sleep.

The next morning, I felt wretched. My husband—who, I assure you, has never heard of Venerable Bruno Lanteri, said what he always says: "Don't worry about it, hon...now we begin."

Still, I had to go to confession. I mean, losing my temper, throwing things, taking the Lord's Name in vain...yikes!

To my rather embarrassed chagrin, my confessor asked: "Is this about your husband's snoring again?" Feeling like a jerk, I had to admit it. Yep, that was the...catalyst.

He gave me wonderful penance, which included reading Sirach 28. (A great read, by the way.)

Evidently I'm not perfect in the let's-get-some-sleep department.

My husband laughingly informed me that I talk in my sleep. He's mentioned this before, always lightly, always tenderly, always with gentle amusement. This time, though, he was laughing so hard I thought he'd hurt himself. When he got under a semblance of control, I asked him what I'd said. Obligingly, he told me:

"Oh please, whatever you do, don't snore, I couldn't bear telling Father X about it again!"

Moral: Watch your tongue!

For fun:

Sarah Murnaghan lung transplant case: Sebelius ordered to make exception on transplant - Brett Norman and Jason Millman - POLITICO.com

Sarah Murnaghan lung transplant case: Sebelius ordered to make exception on transplant - Brett Norman and Jason Millman - POLITICO.com

Lauda, Sion, Salvatorem

A blessed Corpus Christi to you!

Go, Sisters!

Gosnell Trial, from my Cardinal Archbishop

"I was pleased, and even relieved, that the court found this man guilty of these very heinous crimes. What I find difficult to understand is how some people who are horrified by these crimes somehow think that if he would have killed these babies a few minutes earlier, it would have been all right." ~~Seán Cardinal O'Malley on the Gosnell trial.

"Dedicated to my Daughter on her Sixteenth Birthday": a poem from my Mom

Sad is the time
When the age of innocence is past
And the eyes of the child
Who looked upon the bird
and the flower
with wonder and pleasure
And who put a tiny finger into the water
to watch a ripple
form and fade,
And the tiny hands
Feeling of the richness of the dewy grass,
And finding comfort
In arms that cradle her,
Until two tiny lids
As soft as petals of a rose
close over them,
And she sleeps the sleep of Angels
And awakens to new wonders
to explore
and feel
and pleasure,
Listening for sounds
Of love and softness...

She does not know
What pleasure she gives
To those who love her.

Sad is the time
When the age of innocence is past,
And the eyes of the child
Become the eyes
of a girl-woman.
Still trying to see the world
bathed in the cloak
of happiness.

Trying to blink away
the sounds of reality
as if they were not there.

Trying to understand
the new emotions
within her
and yearning still
For the love and comfort
and softness of her innocence,

And trying to conceal
her heart
from disappointments and fear
With too much talk
too much laughter
too few tears.

And she looks tenderly
Upon those who sleep
the sleep of Angels
and are cradled
in the arms of love.

Sad is the time
When the age of innocence is past!

But, from the experience
of sadness
Comes the experience of joy
In finding that God
has Blessed her,

With the capacity to love
and be loved.

In finding that life
holds many challenges
And the rewards
are gratifying.

In finding that all the fears
And frustrations of youth,
Are but a stepping stone
To a more mature
Understanding of human nature,

And in finding
That the beauty
of God's creation
can be felt
with her heart
as well as
with her hands.

Marie Victoria Kelly, April 19, 1969

May 10, My Baptismal Anniversary!

Celebrate with me! Today is the anniversary of my Baptism according to the rite of the Roman Catholic Church, by Reverend Joseph Zalibert at Saints Cyril and Methodius Church, Detroit, Michigan (the church moved to Sterling Heights, Michigan, in 1971.) I thank my parents, Leo James Kelly and Marie Victoria Ulanowicz Kelly for giving me birth, my godparents, Vincent DuRocher and Angeline Ulanowicz DuRocher, and most of all, my God Who claimed me for His own.

And I joyfully renew the vows made by my parents and godparents on my behalf!

I reject Satan, and all his works, and all his empty promises.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of Heaven and earth.

I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, Who was born of the Virgin Mary, was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting.

Amen!

"Going therefore, teach ye all nations; baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Matthew 28-19

May 6: Pope Francis honors new Swiss Guard

"You are called on to testify your faith with joy and with the kindness of your expression...This is important for all the people who pass through Vatican City, but also for those who work in the Holy See and for me too!"

Pope Francis

This ceremony is held every year on the anniversary of the heroic resistance of the Swiss Guard in defense of Pope Clement VII (1523-1534) when the protestant troops of Charles V sacked Rome on May 6, 1527.

What happened on May 6, 1527?

I heard a homily by Father Jim Doran, OMV, about it at Mass today. Following up on a google search? I found precious little. I mean, I learned that most of the Guard were slaughtered by the troops of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (please read the words "Holy" and "Roman" judiciously.)

They came into Rome and they killed people—not just the brave guards, but lay folk, nuns, priests. Thousands of people. Perhaps as many as 12,000 people. Why? For the crime of being Catholic.

(So what else is new?)

Please pray for His Holiness, Pope Francis, and the Swiss Guards.

Martyrs of The Sack of Rome, pray for us.

Indeed Femen ladies, God loves you. And so do I! Just look:

Dear Femen ladies,

I don't know about the painted words on your naked bodies...that would be "my body, my rules." Actually, I think not. To be honest, I know you're wrong.

I mean, my hand is part of my body, right? Right. So. According to your...uh...logic? I rule my hand. Which means I can toss a grenade into a bunch of innocent people. Or create a bomb to blow up, say, in Boston.

Or I can throw water at an innocent priest I happen to disagree with.

Wrong, Femens. We can't do that. Or, well, we can, but we must not. Why? Because it's wrong. (In my country—I know so little about Brussels, forgive me—it's actually against the law.

My voice is part of my body, too. Still, I may not—and hey, you might have a law against this in Brussels, too!—cry "FIRE" in a crowded building, when there is no fire.

Indeed, you and I can both paint our naked bodies with slogans, and if that turns you on, I pity you, but that's probably your right.

'Course, your slogans are, for the most part, really silly. "My body, my rules." No, we've already poked holes into that reasoning. "Stop homophobia." Honeys, the only "homophobia" I've encountered lately is a disease people contract when they're terrified of being labeled "homophobic."

One slogan does make sense though. "God loves lesbians." Indeed God does. So does Archbishop Leonard. So do I. That's part of our Creed, ladies. Get with the program, here!

[UPDATE, May 6: What I mean to say is "God loves SINNERS." He loves you. Just doesn't like what you do when you sin. Pardon the interruption and thanks for letting me clarify. Update your slogan, why dontcha?]

So. You probably think that people are going to malign you. I suspect you hope they do, so that you can, in your own rather odd way, come to think of yourselves as martyrs. Heroines for The Cause.

Only I'm not going to do that. You know what I've been doing since I've heard about this? I've been praying for you! It's something you can't stop me from doing, can't bully me into giving up, can't laugh me out of it, can't make me so mad that I'll stop...in short? You're helpless.

May God continue to bless you.

Link to story.

Boston. Courtesy of Father John Wykes, OMV.

I'm sorry, pro-choice people...

...but it's high time you looked into the mirror.

Believe me, I was once like you. I truly believed in the slogan "a woman's right to choose." It really did appall me that I wasn't given the choice to do whatever I wanted to do with "my own" body.

But you know? I always tried to see the other side. I distinctly remember saying to my equally pro-choice husband: "Gee. If I really thought that a fetus was a human being, I'd feel as outraged as they are. But of course, it's not, right?"

I was wrong. And surely, surely, at this point? You know the truth.

That fetus is a human being. We all know that now. We, whether we choose to admit it or not, realize that abortion is simply another name for killing.

And if we don't admit it, that's our choice. We can choose to be stupid.

Or we can suck it up and face the truth.

You still have the right to choose. Is this truly what you choose? Is this anything about "women's rights?"

"Greater Love"...please pray for Fathers Carlos Lopoez and James Doran, OMV

On Tuesday, April 9, God willing, Father James Doran, OMV, will give a kidney to his friend and brother priest, Father Carlos Lopez, at Mass General Hospital.

This is a wonderful gift from Father Jim, and a wonderful thing for Father Carlos. Rejoice and be glad! This is Christianity!

Just as He said!!!!!

Habemus Papa!

Thanks to my good friends at Grassroot Films.

Saint Patrick and religious freedom

'Course I know this song has many a lore as to its origins. But I do ask that, at the end o' Saint Patrick's Day, you pray for the religious freedom of the Roman Catholic Church...and for the country of Ireland and my own country of the United States, and all the countries o' The Lord's creation, that they be spared by the evil of killing babes in the womb...and o' their souls. (My grandfather, Leo James Kelly, Sr., used to croon this tune to us):

Oh now Paddy dear, 'n did ye hear, the news that's goin' round?

The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground!

No more Saint Patty's Day we'll keep, his colors can't be seen,

Fer there's a cruel law agin the wearin o' the green.

I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand,

And he said "how's poor ol' Ireland and how then does she stand?"

She's the most distressful country that e'er yet was ever seen,

They're hangin' men and women for the wearing 'o the green!

And if the color we must wear is England's cruel red,

Let it remind us of all the blood that Ireland has shed.

Then pull the shamrock from yer head and throw it on the sod,

And never fear, twill take root there, tho under foot 'tis trod.

When the law can stop the blade o' grass from growing as they grow

And when the leaves in summer time, their color dare now show,

Then I will change the color, too I wear in my caubeen.

But 'til that day, please God, I'll stick to the wearin' o' the Green.

Reverse racism...this time in my home town

Kathy Schiffer tackles the absurdity of racism in a few terse sentences. Well worth the read.

"Humility" (a poem my mom wrote)

Humility—where has it gone
Has indifference taken its place?
Love—do we use the word so lightly
To fill an empty space?

Have our hearts become so hardened
And our eyes become so blurred,
That the cry of help around us
Is merely just a word?

Do we turn our backs to sorrow
Because we do not care,
Do we live first for tomorrow
Have we no time to spare
For the homeless and the hungry
For the child who weeps alone,
Have we become so worldly
That our hearts are made of stone?

Do the thoughts of war depress us?
Do we run away and hide?
Can we find a safer refuge
From the war we have inside?

Do we light a single candle
For the man who has much less,
Or are we far too much concerned
For our own happiness?

Do we turn our thoughts to Heaven
Only in times of need
Do we ask just for ourselves
Are we such a special breed?

Humility—where has it gone
Indifference has taken its place...
Love: we use the word so lightly,
To fill an empty space!

Marie Kelly

Sede Vacante

Jesus Ridiculed: The Crowning of Thorns

At the chapel I frequent during the week, the Rosary is prayed after every Mass. During Lent, we pray the Sorrowful Mysteries daily.

I find them difficult, frankly. I'd be lying if I didn't admit this. The most difficult to contemplate is, for me, the Third Sorrowful Mystery: Jesus is crown with thorns.

Why is this so difficult for me to dwell on?

Certainly the quick answer is the pain...thorns piercing his head, having been brutally scourged, to say nothing of betrayed...not an easy thing to think about.

But it's the humiliation that leaves me...sorrowful.

The Crowning with Thorns is, I often think, the most human thing Jesus submitted to. Why? Because, throughout his sojourn on earth, he repeatedly avoided any exaltation, any pomp, anything remotely resembling the homage due to to...well, to God. He fled those who would make him an earthly "king." Repeatedly. He went about doing good, yes, but so often asked his witnesses not to tell anything about him. Not about his works. He recoiled from praise. He couldn't help but do good, but he didn't want to be patted on the back for it, never mind made a "king."

But we didn't believe him.

Why, I wonder? Perhaps because we ourselves so often aspire to recognition...to receive that award, this raise in pay, that nomination, this compliment...I don't know.

But I do know that, for Jesus, the Crowning with Thorns was more than an excruciating headache...it was the ultimate humiliation.

Image: Detail of a stained glass window courtesy of Stained Glass Inc: www. stainedglassinc.com

It told him that we didn't get it. That we really thought he was seeking earthly glory. And we mocked him for it in a way that must have hurt so badly that I can't even begin to imagine it. Can you?

Perhaps Mary will help us here.

Imagine helplessly witnessing someone you love intimately and deeply—your child, your spouse, your best friend, someone—in unbelievable pain. Now see that person, wracked in agony, being...I don't know...fitted with a dunce cap, maybe. Mocked, certainly. Verbally tortured by the accusation of aspiring to become something he or she never wanted, all while slowly and painfully dying, naked, and without a friend in the world. Perhaps that will help us understand what the ignominious path Jesus not just chose, but embraced, meant to him...to his mother...to us.

The fact that Jesus simply died and rose again should be enough for me and for you, I suppose. But this Lent, I cannot help but think that the ridicule he bore was maybe his ultimate gift.

Ash Wednesday: Be kind, be welcoming, or at least be silent.

Okay, I understand that, God willing, churches and chapels will be mobbed on tomorrow with folks wanting—and we don't know their reasons—to receive the ashes that will, or should, remind them of their imminent mortality. Yes, I understand that, even above Easter in may churches, this is the most crowded church day of the year. Yes, I do understand that, aside from maybe Palm Sunday, Easter, and Christmas, that many of these people wouldn't recognize what a church looks like if it were the mirror they look into daily. But I'm asking you, begging you: be a Catholic. If just one of those folks looking for a dirty forehead leaves contemplating a genuine return to the Church...would that not be a glorious thing?

You can pray for that!

May God continue to bless you.

"They Have No Wine": Mary's example of prayer

I don't know about you, but I have this weird habit, in prayer, to add the solution.

As in:

"Jesus, please do this, that, and the other thing, in order to fix this, that, and the other thing."

To be more specific:

"Jesus, here's the thing. What I want you to do is somehow arrange that so-and-so be appointed to the Supreme Court. This'll help in the fight against abortion."

Or:

"Hey Jesus, my husband's cold will go away if you just CONVINCE him to use Vick's Vapo Rub, thanks so much!"

Or:

"Jesus, please make that idiot who sat next to me on the bus today stop with the profanity already, okay?"

Or:

"Jesus. Here's what we've gotta do here. Really, this will work! Just make so-and-so pro-life!"

Or:

"Look Jesus. You let So-and-so win this election and hey, we'll all be just fine, thank-you-very-much, Amen."

These are pretty sucky prayers.

Now don't get me wrong. The Church, guided by the Holy Spirit, gives us many intercessory prayers. At Mass, for example, we're encouraged to pray for the Church, the Holy Father, the sick, the dead, for faith, hope, and love.

Prayers of intercession are not wrong. Prescribing the solution is dumb.

At the wedding bash in Cana, the embarrassed groom and his bride had one of those "uh-oh" moments...the wine was running 'way short. Or maybe they weren't troubled by it, but somebody was. The parents, maybe? I don't know. I do know that our loving Mom, Mary, felt somebody's pain.

Now what did she do? She prayed! And how did she pray?

Did she say: "Hey Son, here's the thing. Snap your fingers and create some wine. Now!" Or, "Jesus, Love, make a miracle...DO something!" Or even: "Kid, look water, wine, both liquid, right? Do Mama a favor and change that water into wine, okay, that's a good boy."

Nope. She just said four words:

"They have no wine."

That was it. She didn't tell Him the solution. She told Him the problem.

And so confident was she (despite the rather droll exchange...or rather Jesus' response to her about "not being His time) that she told the wine guys: "do whatever He tells you." (A rather terrific motto of Boston's Cardinal Archbishop, by the way.)

Badda-bing. We know what happened next.

What can we learn from our Mother?

Well, we can learn how to ask for help from Jesus. We can tell Him the problem, and leave the answer to Him.

We can tell Jesus, for example:

"Jesus, my spouse is sick."

"Jesus, unborn children are dying."

"Jesus, when people take your Name in vain, it hurts me."

"Jesus, I'm lonely."

"Jesus, I'm sick."

"Jesus, my child is in trouble."

You get what I mean. Besides saving a lot of words and time, prayer like Mary's underscores the confidence you and I have in Jesus' love for us. And His Divinity!

Jesus doesn't need the answers. He actually doesn't even need the prayers.

But we do. Let's let Him do His work...without our advice.

May He continue to bless you!

January 22: A day that will live in infamy

Once again, though, Jill Stanek is asking us to ask them: "What do you mean by `choice'?"

NARAL celebrates 1/22 like it was a birthday...ironically enough.

Throughout the United States—and please God, other countries—Catholic and other Christian communities are holding prayer vigils, Masses of Reparation, a Day of Penance, and Holy Hours to powerfully and spiritually fight the culture of death. Please. Join us.

May The Author of Life continue to bless you!

Urgent prayer request from Mark Shea's reader

Our eldest child, 13 years old, was found dead yesterday morning in his bed.  Doctors have not yet determined the cause of death.  My wife and I, and his 4 younger siblings, are still in shock and in so much pain  Right before we went to bed, he and I prayed the joyful mysteries.    We’re certain he’s in heaven.  Please pray for his mother and siblings.

Litany of Christmas Thanks

Litany of Christmas Thanks

(Response: Baby Jesus, we thank you.)

For the Blessed Virgin Mary your Mother who said "Yes" to the angel. R/

For John the Baptist who leapt in the womb of Elizabeth his mother when you visited him in Mary. R/

For Joseph your foster father who trusted the angel instead of heeding his own doubts. R/

For the donkey that carried your expectant Mother to Bethlehem. R/

For the neighbor who led your holy family to the stable. R/

For the manger in which you were placed as if in the first tabernacle. R/

For the animals who were there in the first moments that you were adored. R/

For the angels and their song that led shepherds to your stable. R/

For the shepherds who worshiped you and then proclaimed the Good News like priests. R/

For Simeon who all his life had been waiting for you in the temple, longing to hold you. R/

For Anna the prophetess who proclaimed you to all those looking for deliverance and peace. R/

For the star that led the Magi to your manger and your Mother. R/

Loving Father,

all of these Christmas gifts

symbolize how much you love us

with the supreme Gift of your Son, Jesus Christ,

born for us this Christmas day.

We give these gifts to one another to express

how grateful we are for your unfathomable generosity

and to show how eager we are to share that goodness with one another.

Bless these tokens of love and caring.

Never let us get attached to material things,

but rather let the joy flowing from these presents

strengthen our bonds of love, deepen our relationships,

and move us to be more thankful, selfless, and giving all the days of our life.

Thank you for the birth of Jesus,

our brother and our Savior.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,

and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning,

is now and will be forever.

Amen. 

(Adapted from Blessing Prayers: Devotions for Growing in Faith

by Fr. Peter John Cameron, O.P.)

 

My Mom, the Religious Ed Teacher

"Trust"

Dear God, I want so much
To place my trust in you --
But there are times, dear God
I know not what to do.

I feel such pain, and loneliness,
I fear the long dark night --
I wish that I could keep Your face
Forever in my sight --

Then, I'd remember how
Your Son did suffer too,
And how in fear He was
And how He prayed to You.

For He was human as am I,
And knew He'd have to die
He put His trust in You
And never questioned why.

Please, let me be like Him
And follow in His way
I'll place my trust in You, dear God...

...and never cease to pray.

Marie Kelly

Written for my C.C.D. class

November 16, 1987

Santa Claus: pro-life, pro-woman, pro-Jesus

'Course, maybe like you, I've known Santa Claus since I was a kid. I used to see him a lot, but lately? Only a few weeks before each Christmas. Still, it's always good to see him.

For the past few weeks he's been hanging around the Prudential Center of Boston, directly across from the post office and a few steps away from Saint Francis Chapel.

I've tried to pop by to see him whenever I could...sometimes—often—he's busy with little kids, patiently listening to them. If we can't chat, we manage to blow kisses to each other (often, alas, to the dismay of the photographer who has to take the picture over again.)

A couple of weeks ago—on the eve of his namesake's day (that would be Saint Nicholas)—we spent a half an hour or so together, talking over old times...you know. We posed for a photo, which was fun.

And, somewhat to my surprise, he asked me what I wanted for Christmas!

He: "Kelly, come on. What'd you like me to bring you this year?"
Me: "Santa, you come on! You know I've got everything I need and I'm not a kid anymore."
He: "Sure you are Kel...now don't be silly, there's got to be something."

As it happened, I had in my hand a gift request from the annual Saint Francis Chapel Giving Tree—a wonderful effort by some good pro-life folks to help unborn babies and their parents to warm up Christmas a bit. So...

Me: "Okay, Santa. What I'd like is for the Chapel Giving Tree to be a great success!"
He: "Giving Tree?"
Me: "Yeah. You know. Moms. Babies. Folks in need."
He: "Hmmm...like Jesus and Mary and Joseph?"
Me: "Well, yes, actually."

Then I kissed him goodbye and hurried off.

Today I found myself in an impossibly long line at the post office. I needed to mail two letters overseas and the auto-machine thing wasn't working. Since I'd just been to confession—top story: Kelly Was Impatient—I tried to ignore the line and make cheerful talk with my fellow queue-mates. It worked, actually. In the middle of one conversation, a nice looking lady came into the crowded area calling out:

"Excuse me, is there a Kelly here?" I looked around, and since nobody else claimed the name, I pleaded guilty as charged.

"Oh, good," she said. "Santa sent me to ask if you'd be good enough to stop by and see him...if it doesn't make you late for Mass, of course."

Gamely trying to ignore my slightly flaming cheeks (along with the sudden hush in the post office...I mean, how often does a 50++ woman get publicly summoned by that Little Round Elf?) I assured the lady I'd do my best, and hey presto! Suddenly I was at the counter!

In no time, my transaction with the grinning post office lady done, I rushed across the aisle and sank into Santa's sofa. He said:

"Kelly. Forgive me for taking so long. Here. Take this for the Giving Tree. And the babies. And the moms. And for Him."

After staring at the wad of bills he thrust into my hands, I threw my arms around him and dashed off to the Chapel Office minutes before Mass started, and gave the money to the receptionist. "It's for the Giving Tree," I explained.

"Great timing!" she said. "They're on their way to pick up the stuff. Thanks, Kelly!"

"Don't thank me," I mumbled. "Thank Santa Claus." But she only smiled.

I entered the Chapel praising God...and giving thanks for a very giving man.

Merry Christmas!

The dead in Newtown, CT, 12/14/12: please pray!

Please pray for the souls of those who suffered a violent death in Newtown, Connecticut on Friday, December 14, 2012, and for the consolation of their loved ones.

The children

Charlotte Bacon, age 6

Daniel Barden, age 7

Olivia Engel, age 6

Josephine Gay, age 7

Ana M. Marquez-Greene, age 6

Dylan Hockley, age 6

Madeleine F. Hsu, age 6

Catherine V. Hubbard, age 6

Chase Kowalski, age 7

Jesse Lewis, age 6

James Mattioli, age 6

Grace McDonnell, age 7

Emilie Parker, age 6

Jack Pinto, age 6

Noah Pozner, age 6

Caroline Previdi, age 6 

Jessica Rekos, age 6

Avielle Richman, age 6

Benjamin Wheeler, age 6 

Allison N. Wyatt, age 6

The adults

Rachel Davino, age 29 

Dawn Hochsprung, age 47

Adam Lanza, age 20

Nancy Lanza, age 52

Anne Marie Murphy, age 52

Lauren Rousseau, age 30

Mary Sherlach, age 56

Victoria Soto, age 27

May God continue to bless you.

"Threaten marriage?" Go 'way to the back of the line, ladies

There's a meme traversing social media networks that uses these two old ladies (below) brandishing their "marriage certificate," courtesy of the state of Washington, to challenge those of us who doggedly persist in believing that marriage is a union between a man and a woman on our "feelings of threat."

Makes me laugh out loud...or perhaps cry.

Because these two old gals, of course, have about as much "threat" power as did a wandering ice berg had after the Titanic sunk.

The threat began—let's face it, folks—long before the notion of same-sex "marriage" ever entered the picture.

And when did the threat begin?

Gee. Probably forever. But for purposes here, let's just start with my lifetime. (It's my blog.)

How 'bout when among Catholics of The Greatest Generation, after reading Humane Vitae, (clearly limning the dangers of artificial birth control), a sudden rash of "irregular periods" infested women...a "disorder" obligingly "cured" by The Pill?

Or maybe when the divorce rate overcame the 50% mark?

Or when "wife swapping" became vogue in suburbia?

Or when "open marriage" gained popularity as a means to "keep the zip" in marriage?

Or when the "sexual revolution" opened the doors to premarital sex, abortion, and all sorts of nice stuff like that? And the ladies and gentlemen of The Greatest Generation had no problem with taking their daughters to the friendly neighborhood gynecologist to be either fitted for a diaphragm or prescribed The Pill?

I could go on, but you get the picture.

Dearest ladies, you couldn't cause a threat to traditional marriage if you tried. Because you, and the "activists" who are using you, have missed the point entirely.

You're not a threat. You're merely a result.

Alfred Hitchcock's Surprise Ending

A biographer said that the director, at the end of his life, shunned religion. Not true. I was there.

A wonderful read. Enjoy!

Happy New Year!

Christ, King of the Universe!

"Our Prayer" to Our Lady: written by my mom in 1940

My sister Buzzy gave me my mom's diary on my wedding day. While thumbing through it this evening on the day of the Presentation of Our Lady, I was struck by this entry, written in 1940.

"Our Prayer"

Oh, Virgin Pure

Oh, Virgin Fair

Sweet Mary, lily white,

Keep us in thy loving care.

Protect us, day and night.

Watch o'er us when

The days are dark

With life's great trouble

And strife.

Keep within us

A burning spark

A Love for eternal life.

Keep vigil, sweetest Mother dear

When Satan aims his arrow of sin

Coat our souls with an armor of fear

Of Hell's precocious din.

Please give us thy helping hand

When we stumble

In erring way.

Deliver us from the Devil's snare;

Protect us, we humbly pray.

3 Days of Adoration, Prayer, Fasting: 2012 Elections

The inspiration for 3 days of fasting and prayer is found in the Book of Esther. Queen Esther, when informed of the possible annihilation of her people, called for a three day fast prior to her interceding with the king on behalf of her people.

Mary has been likened to Esther as she continually intercedes with the King of kings on our behalf. The nation has been entrusted to her under the title of Immaculate Conception. Let us ask her to pray with us and for us that we, as a people, will choose life.

"Who knows but that it was a time like this that you obtained the royal dignity?" (Esther 4:14)

Many thanks to my friends at Missionaries of the Blessed Sacrament for this prayer.

Prayer for Our Country

O Most Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of Mercy, at this most critical time, we entrust the United States of America to your loving care. Most Holy Mother, we beg you to reclaim this land for the glory of your Son.

Overwhelmed with the burden of the sins of our nation, we cry to you from the depths of our hears and seek refuge in your motherly protection. Look down with mercy upon us and touch the hearts of our people.

Open our minds to the great worth of human life and to the responsibilities that accompany human freedom.

Free us from the falsehoods that lead to the evil of abortion and threaten the sanctity of family life.

Grant our country the wisdom to proclaim that God's law is the foundation on which this nation was founded, and that He alone is the True Source of our cherished rights to live, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

O Merciful Mother, give us the courage to reject the culture of death and the strength to build a new Culture of Life.

"...I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live." (Deuteronomy 30:19)

Happy All Saints Day!

Prayer to Prevent Assisted Suicide

True Compassion at the End of a Life

O God, source of all life and hope, grant us the grace to see you in others, especially in the poor and vulnerable, the frail and the old.

Look kindly on your sons and daughters who have grown weak through illness and age: fill them with the strength of your Holy Spirit. Keep them firm in faith and serene in hope, that they might give us all an example of patience and joyfully witness to the power of your love.

We pray for our country and for our Commonwealth of Massachusetts: that we might continue to protect and defend the dignity and worth of every human life, created in your image and likeness.

Assist us as we oppose those who, out of misguided mercy, advance the cause of doctor-assisted suicide.

Help us to recognize that to die with dignity is to die in your loving embrace, trusting in your compassionate care for us, and allowing your will be done in us.

Mary, Mother of God, pray for us and help us grow in faith and trust, so that your words might become ours:

"Let it be done to me according to God's will."

Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

(Many thanks to Father Jonathan Gaspar, Director of Divine Worship of the Archdiocese of Boston for this prayer. Please. Vote NO on Question 2 in Massachusetts.)

VIDEO REPORT: Son of State Senator Neal Kedzie Attacked; Sean Kedzie Speaks Out

VIDEO REPORT: Son of State Senator Neal Kedzie Attacked; Sean Kedzie Speaks Out

Mary, and getting a jump start in doing our job: Prayers of the Faithful

There are two really important words in the Ave Maria —the Hail Mary prayer.

NOW. Pray for us sinners, NOW.

And at the hour of our DEATH.

Because there are really only two important times in our lives. NOW. And when we are approaching the final "now."

Not everyone prays the Hail Mary.

Sad, but true. And yet—aside from The Lord's Prayer—this one doesn't get any better. Our job is to get people to Heaven.

So here's what I propose (and many priests already do this):

When concluding the prayers of the faithful—or, as they're also called, the Offertory Intercessions—why not make it a habit to vocally implore Our Lady to intercede for us...to add her wonderful voice... in that amazing prayer called the "Ave Maria?"

Think about it. Not only are you asking Mary to pray for you, but, if everyone prays to her, well...everyone is asking for the same thing:

"Pray for us sinners NOW, and at the hour of our DEATH."

I mean, really. Jesus never denied His Mother anything. That's why the "Hail Mary" is such a great prayer! And if, for whatever reasons, our brethren (to say nothing of our sisthren) aren't in the habit of using this magnificent prayer, what is to stop our celebrants from leading the assembly in doing so?

Pray about this. And maybe encourage your pastor to do the same.

May God, through the intercession of His Mother, Mary, continue to bless you.

The Detroit Tigers: you will forgive this bit o' nostalgia

Father George W. Rulter in Newton: Wed. 10/17 at 6:00 PM

From reader Kristine DeMatteo:

Mary Immaculate of Lourdes Parish presents:
Father George W. Rutler
"Crisis of Saints: Holiness in the Year of Faith"
Wednesday, October 17, 6 PM, Lower Church Hall.

(and my alert eyes spotted the money question: it's FREE!)

Mary Immaculate of Lourdes in Newton Upper Falls extends an open invitation to attend a talk by Father George W. Rutler, who will speak about "A Crisis of Saints: Holiness in the Year of Faith." He will discuss the importance of looking at the saints for guidance. For while saints have lives peculiar to a specific time and place, human nature never changes. The way the saints draw on the strength of the Holy Spirit is a guide for today's faithful at a time of cultural upheaval.
For more information, contact Kristine at kdemat@comcast.net

Okay, that's the PR. Here's my take.

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to, after even a cursory glance at Father Rutler's bio, to realize that here's a guy worth listening to. It also doesn't take a genius to know that holiness is the A Numero Uno No Questions Allowed One Single Thing We're Needing Right Here, Right Now.

And anybody who recommends looking to the saints for guidance is right up there with the Evangelists. Hope to see you there.

"Gentle Woman?" Yeah. "Tough Woman?" Absolutely!

While reflecting upon the Seven Sorrows of Mary tonight, I was reminded of a homily I heard at Mass today by Father Mike McNamara. He spoke against something that somehow always bugged me—didn't sit quite right—and that would be the notion of Mary as the weak, totally berserk, wreck of a grief-maddened woman unable to cope with her enormous sorrows.

(I almost got up and applauded, but thankfully my guardian angel held me firmly in my check.)

Indeed, it's true that Mary is a "gentle woman." So please, Carey Landry fans, no protests, thanks.

She's also One. Tough. Lady!

Don't like the image of Mary's toughness? Ponder, if you will, on the "Seven Sorrows."

1.) Simeon's Prophesy. Okay so she's told her Child will be the rise and fall of many..."and you, yourself, a sword shall pierce." How did she react? Did she say "good grief, no, no, I'm not ready nor willing for this stuff!" Nope. She accepted it. Pondered his words.

2.) The Flight into Egypt. I mean, come on! First she gives birth in some barn somewhere in a tiny town. Then she finds out some maniac "king" is dead set on killing—killing!—her little Boy. Her husband tells her he dreams that they've gotta hot tail it into a foreign country and what does she do? Say, "no, sorry, my parents haven't even seen the Boy and besides, what the bleep am I supposed to do in Egypt of all places?" Nope. She just does it. She goes. She Womans-up, so to speak.

3.) Jesus Can't be Found. Any parent who's lost a child—in the mall, at the beach, in the park, wherever—has to understand the agony of this situation. As it turned out, Mary thought He was with Joseph, Joseph thought He was with Mary...you know the story. So for three bleeping days they backtracked, searching, looking, praying...and finally they found Him. In the temple, for Heaven's sake, "listening...and asking questions." Did she admonish her Son? Well, in a way, yes she did, and understandably so! But when He answered her question, she accepted it. She didn't kvetch and moan about the Impossible Nerve of Some People's Children or anything like that. She accepted it and took Him home. Period.

4.) Mary meets Jesus on the Road to Calvary. She probably cried. But she didn't keel over. She followed him.

5.) Mary Sees Her Son Crucified. Crucified! As horrible as any death is, crucifixion pretty much trumps it all. Imagine how you'd feel if you saw your son, or daughter, or husband, or even that person you really don't like all that much suffering unspeakable horrors? Again, she probably cried. But again, she didn't crumple. She stood by the Cross. Mostly all their friends fled like ninnies—to be honest, what I'd probably do—but she stood by the Cross. Did I mention that this is One Tough Lady?

6.) Mary Sees Her Son Taken Down from The Cross. It's all over folks. Nothing more to see. The guy's dead. Another day in good ol' Roman-ruled territory so you might as well go home. Not so with Mary. If you examine Michelangelo's Pieta and other similar images, you can search but you will not find any hysterical woman. You'll see a sorrowful woman, indeed, but not one ready for the looney bin. You'll see—and I hope you pray on this—one resigned to the Will of God.

7.) Mary Sees Her Son Laid in the Tomb. A few days ago I went to a wake of a beautiful, three year old girl who died of leukemia. Her casket was opened. The last thing I wanted to see was this child buried. I cannot even begin to think about how her parents felt. What excruciating pain!  Hell, I couldn't even bring myself to see my late husband Bill, or my mom, or my dad, being lowered into the ground. But did Mary throw herself over the grave, hysterically screaming? Nope. She watched it all. And somewhere inside of her she knew that God's Will was done. More than anyone else, she knew. And accepted it.

Here's the thing: Mary is tough!

She's tough on sin, tough on the devil, and filled with tough love—of the best sort—for her children. That would be you and me.

So it's probably best to follow her advice: the last of her words recorded in the Bible:

Do Whatever He Tells You!

May He continue to bless us, and may our very loving, and very tough Mother continue to pray for us all.

Hope you had a good one :-)