September 2, 2014

A Couple of Joys

It's been almost a month since the move to town, and I find myself just thanking God for some of the joys of the new situation. Here are a couple of them:

After lunch and supper we friars do the dishes. Maybe it doesn't seem like a big deal, but it's something plain and wholesome and honest that wasn't part of our life during my two years at the Collegio. Most days it has fallen to me to do the drying at the end of the pots and pans line. I enjoy the conversation or pray if there isn't any. I often think of St. Teresa: Mirad que entre los pucheros y las ollas anda Dios. "See that God walks among the pots and pans."

Another joy is that now that we are in town, I'm able to take some Masses outside of the house. This week I'm going to the Capuchin Sisters of Mother Rubatto. It's good to have to preach at daily Mass, even if it's with my very few words of Italian. It's also a nice walk to the sisters--through the Villa Borghese park and around the zoo, where I hear some of the animals getting up in the morning. It's also good to pray and be with women, even if Mother General gave me a translation project to do!

One other note about the sisters: Since I would be going all week, I left my alb at the convent. Sister Sacristan, perhaps regarding my paper-clip zipper pull as undignified or inadequate, replaced it with a loop of cord.


Louis M said...

Perfect. One hand mends the other. :)

Sophie said...

"...grant them (the gift and joy of children and) a long and happy life together."

The words in parentheses once had surprisingly little meaning to me - a commonplace, a cliche. Now those words are steeped in bitterness and wreathed in wretched irony.

Sophie said...

We prayed ignorantly for years for the gift and joy of children. I wish He had not been generous, inasmuch as He stopped His ears to our years of prayers afterward and has been mingy in granting the gift of healing now, content instead to witness our daughter's suffering (granting just enough temporary ups to sharpen the agony of the ever-deepening downs) in lordly silence.