Super "Super" weekend

 

In between our favorite college women's basketball games, all of our regular weekend prayer and liturgy, and, of course the Super Bowl, we did manage this weekend to get in a couple winter walks--as the temperatures here have touched the "moderate" range (which means 45-60) this week.

Lake Erie is totally open, no ice in sight anywhere...at least off of our shore. And a winter walk along the creek path brought this stunning view of one of our waterfalls--with strong flowing water over its entire width. We saw signs of fisherfolk all along the path, too, so I guess they're having some success with winter fishing. 

Congratulations to all the Kansas City and Philly fans...one kick in the last 10 seconds, by the team that last has the ball, and KC did it perfectly. Hopefully we'll see them both back again next year.

Getting through those dark, cold winter days!

 Today I'm going to share two marvelous ways we're getting through the heart of winter here in the Great Lakes---Lake Erie---region.

#1. The author Elizabeth Strout won a Pulitzer Prize for her novel, Olive Kitteridge, stories of a quirky, outspoken, New Englander and her small town and the interactions she has with the people and the events therein. Now there is a mini-series, four one-hour movies based on the book. You know how when you see a movie after reading the book it often doesn't seem to measure up to the characters and settings you "saw" all through the book as you read it? Well, this one is the exception--it is just as good as the book or, you might say, presents a fitting visual of what the reader first experienced. A wonderful, memorable story of life and relationships and "just getting by" the best you can. It is streaming on HBO MAX, though we got our copy from our local library. And, if Elizabeth Strout is new to you, you're in for a real treat...she has about 8-10 books, all exceptional.

#2. Most of us read Louise Penny's latest book,  A World of Curiosities. And even though it's her 17th or 18th Armand Gamache tale, we weren't disappointed, as she has a unique talent for fresh stories and adventures for her hero-detective and the delightful cast of characters that come and go throughout each book. A few years ago a movie was made, I think in Germany, of her first book, Still Life, and much to our delight there is now a mini-series of 8 stories from the other books. The title is Three Pines and they, too, can be found streaming, on Amazon Prime. We'll be starting them soon. Enjoy!

Fly, Eagles, Fly

Sunday we were glued to the football championships as we had high interest in both games: we have at least six sisters that grew up in either Philadelphia itself or in the nearby areas. Two of them were in the group with whom I watched the game. The "football gods" were with us as the Eagles won the first game and a trip to the Super Bowl in two weeks. Here's the song every Philadelphian can sing at a moment's notice:  "Fly Eagles Fly" !

First kite flying at the peninsula for 2023!

Our Benedictine friends in Cullman, Alabama were cheering with us, as both the Eagle's quarterback and one of its top receivers played their college ball at the University of Alabama---winning national championships along the way.

Then in the second game the winner, the Kansas City Chiefs, will be the favorite of another Benedictine community, the sisters of Atchison, KS, which is located about 30 miles north of KC.

On another note our "You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby" contest has been a real hit. The sisters have really enjoyed the display of darling "little girls." Here's another one of the five groups...can you match any photos with names? 

The contest ends mid-week, just in time for the next one to start: The 23rd annual Sister Lenore Shaw memorial Super Bowl Pool. There will be four happy winners, one each quarter, as we continue the tradition started by Lenore of "friendly guessing" on the Super Bowl winner. And that will end the events from yours truly--the unofficial, unelected and untrained winter activities director! 

Wintertime

 A couple things from a rather ordinary (whatever that means!) January weekend.

First, after quite a few days without snow we had a few hours on Sunday of one of those winter wonderland types-big, wet flakes leaving every branch, large or small, balancing an inch of snow.

Secondly, we're having a mid-winter fun contest, matching baby pictures with the names of the sisters.

38 sisters entered the "You must have been a beautiful baby" contest. The photos are arranged in groups of seven or eight, to be matched with the names of the sisters in the group. Additionally, donations are being collected that will benefit one of Erie's weekly "warming centers"--overnight accommodations for homeless/street people when the standard places are filled during the winter. One of our Catholic parishes, St. John's, is in the program and their four weeks are run by two gals that went to Villa and St. Ben's, two of Erie's Catholic high schools for girls. With our donations they will be able to serve a breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays, along with providing gloves and hand warmers. Can you tell who's who in this list?

Joy and sadness must live together

What a tough week. We honored our Sister Mary Lou with beautiful rituals and with displays in the  Chapter 57 hall gallery, but for all the pride, joy and gratitude for her and her gifts, we are just so sad. 

13 + 17= 30

When I first came to the community I began working under Mary Lou Kownacki, becoming a member of a staff that wrote: newsletters for Emmaus Ministries and AIM USA, PR releases for the community, and articles for The Mount  magazine. Soon we added the Neighborhood Art House newsletter. Through these she taught me to write news articles, feature stories, proofread, and be part of the planning for all sorts of publications and projects---to become somewhat of a journalist. And then there was Pax Publications, the predecessor of Benetvision.

After 13 years "I moved across the hall" working more directly with Joan Chittister's office but, since there was great overlap in our projects, working with Mary Lou continued and that soon became 17 more years!  

I am so grateful for the many things I learned from her, here are just  three:

1) The ideas can ebb and flow freely, the planning can be somewhat flexible, but the precision and accuracy of the final product is vital;

2) Growing up in the suburbs of the 50s and 60s had its pros and cons, but growing up in an ethnic Polish city neighborhood in the 40s and 50s had a whole different set!

3) Hold most things lightly and choose your battles---saving those "battles" for the really, really important things in life--and figure out what those are for yourself first. (Those aren't her exact words, they are my interpretation!)

Thanks, Mary Lou---so many wonderful memories; we'll be reminiscing for years.

To begin a new year--2023

Some thoughts--serious, yet simple. Poignant, yet practical. Truthful and hopeful, for sure.

Excerpts from "At the River Clarion" by Mary Oliver

I don’t know who God is exactly.

But I’ll tell you this.

I was sitting in the river named Clarion, on a water splashed stone
and all afternoon I listened to the voices of the river talking.
Whenever the water struck a stone it had something to say,
and the water itself, and even the mosses trailing under the water.
And slowly, very slowly, it became clear to me what they were saying.
Said the river I am part of holiness.
And I too, said the stone. And I too, whispered the moss beneath the water....

If God exists he isn’t just butter and good luck. 

He’s also the tick that killed my wonderful dog Luke.

Said the river: imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.

Imagine how the lily (who may also be a part of God) would sing to you if it could sing,
if you would pause to hear it.
And how are you so certain anyway that it doesn’t sing?

If God exists he isn’t just churches and mathematics.
He’s the forest, He’s the desert.
He’s the ice caps, that are dying.
He’s the ghetto and the Museum of Fine Arts....

 

Yes, it could be that I am a tiny piece of God, and each of you too, 

or at least of his intention and his hope.

Which is a delight beyond measure.
I don’t know how you get to suspect such an idea.
I only know that the river kept singing.
It wasn’t a persuasion, it was all the river’s own constant joy
which was better by far than a lecture, which was comfortable, exciting, unforgettable.