Happy Easter. Rome is, by far, my most favourite place. It was there on my first trip that I discovered the true connection between the Roman Empire and my own religion. I had been lucky to have caught a glimpse of Pope John Paul, not long before he died, giving one of his last audiences. Dressed all in Red, he sat on a gilded throne atop the steps leading to St Peters and it struck me through to realise that I was merely looking at the lastest in a long line of Pontiffs stretching back for more than two millennia. He could have been Julius Caesar himself! So much history, so much intertwined tradition - it’s no wonder they call it the eternal city.
With my Irish / Italian blood, and all the complicated Catholic history that comes with that, I thank you for this (and all the very personal glimpses into your life.) Happy Easter
Some Marycrest history flavored with Trevignano fond remembrances laced with people I knew told by a great story teller from the site of fine renovation. A photo of that livingroom, including the Roman brick floor would be wonderful and give your readers perspective on just where you found that card that started this edition of Saving Culture. Happy Easter to you and your Mom.
What a sweet and captivating post, full of details that were so interesting in their own right -- that your mother lives in Italy, the Catholic homesteading community, and how the father and son died (mystery!). This morning I was greeted by a few different images/stories about sincere Good Friday processions around the world -- in Poland (so many people!) Lebanon (dangerous!). I was at the monastery near my house, where all was still and solemn. The Passion was sung in chant, everything was solemn and still, we venerated the cross, and received communion that had been the focus of the people's Eucharistic adoration earlier in the day, just like in Italy. The body of Christ.
My Dad was always very active in our church, doing whatever need doing, DIY, painting, repairs, etc, and I do the same now, having followed his example. He also acted as a greeter sometimes, and would often quote Psalm 84 verse 10: "For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness."
I love that phrase 'Liturgy of Labour' it's so apt, and so true. Thank you for another wonderful piece of writing. Happy Easter!
I just now had the chance to read your piece after a busy Easter week-end. This is beautiful and timely for me as a conversation about sweeping the floor unfolded among my mother, my sisters, in-laws, friends and myself just after Easter dinner at our home.
While some cleared the table and some headed to the sink for dishwashing, I grabbed the broom from the closet. My sister, who gave me a Dyson stick vac recently asked why I didn’t use it, “it’s so much easier” she said. Well, actually I prefer to sweep I confessed.”
“Really?” my sister-in-law asked, “ I use my stick vac all the time.” “Yes, it relaxes me.” I further explained, but felt I felt a loss for words. “Relaxes you?”, they laughed. Then I proceeded to tell them how I loved to sweep, it was like dancing to me.
Later I thought about why rounding up scattered dog hair, peppercorns, chips of onion skin and gritty pebbles from outside, into my broom makes me feel something more than just ticking off a chore. I concluded that perhaps all of messy fragments of the days activities gathered in my dustpan reminds me that we “live” in our home and that prancing dogs, messy cooks who make delicious food, drooling grand babies, toddlers with coconut treats, teenagers who don’t remove their boots and aging parents with walkers, helps me realize how blessed my floors are for all of the feet who have come to dirty them. All of the feet gathered on the same floors kicking about the crumbs, that at the end of the day, I will sweep into an aggregated clump of appreciation.
I am a Catholic and love a good prayer card or religious poem. I have never seen or heard of this treasure you found. I intend to print this out place it just inside my broom closet.
Thank you for sharing this Jenny. Easter blessings to you and yours all the year through.
Happy Easter. Rome is, by far, my most favourite place. It was there on my first trip that I discovered the true connection between the Roman Empire and my own religion. I had been lucky to have caught a glimpse of Pope John Paul, not long before he died, giving one of his last audiences. Dressed all in Red, he sat on a gilded throne atop the steps leading to St Peters and it struck me through to realise that I was merely looking at the lastest in a long line of Pontiffs stretching back for more than two millennia. He could have been Julius Caesar himself! So much history, so much intertwined tradition - it’s no wonder they call it the eternal city.
With my Irish / Italian blood, and all the complicated Catholic history that comes with that, I thank you for this (and all the very personal glimpses into your life.) Happy Easter
Italy – where the Renaissance was born. On this Easter, let us hope to see it – and Italy – reborn.
Some Marycrest history flavored with Trevignano fond remembrances laced with people I knew told by a great story teller from the site of fine renovation. A photo of that livingroom, including the Roman brick floor would be wonderful and give your readers perspective on just where you found that card that started this edition of Saving Culture. Happy Easter to you and your Mom.
Absolutely, beautiful, thank you...the reminder of the beauty and possibilities in each of us...
What a sweet and captivating post, full of details that were so interesting in their own right -- that your mother lives in Italy, the Catholic homesteading community, and how the father and son died (mystery!). This morning I was greeted by a few different images/stories about sincere Good Friday processions around the world -- in Poland (so many people!) Lebanon (dangerous!). I was at the monastery near my house, where all was still and solemn. The Passion was sung in chant, everything was solemn and still, we venerated the cross, and received communion that had been the focus of the people's Eucharistic adoration earlier in the day, just like in Italy. The body of Christ.
My Dad was always very active in our church, doing whatever need doing, DIY, painting, repairs, etc, and I do the same now, having followed his example. He also acted as a greeter sometimes, and would often quote Psalm 84 verse 10: "For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness."
I love that phrase 'Liturgy of Labour' it's so apt, and so true. Thank you for another wonderful piece of writing. Happy Easter!
Happy Easter Jenny. I love your writing, you are a gifted writer. But this was particularly special. I enjoyed it very much, thank you.
Happy Easter, JH.
beautiful and poignant piece, brought tears to my eyes. happy easter Jenny!
Thank you, Jenny. Happy Easter.
And Happy Easter to you. He is risen.
I just now had the chance to read your piece after a busy Easter week-end. This is beautiful and timely for me as a conversation about sweeping the floor unfolded among my mother, my sisters, in-laws, friends and myself just after Easter dinner at our home.
While some cleared the table and some headed to the sink for dishwashing, I grabbed the broom from the closet. My sister, who gave me a Dyson stick vac recently asked why I didn’t use it, “it’s so much easier” she said. Well, actually I prefer to sweep I confessed.”
“Really?” my sister-in-law asked, “ I use my stick vac all the time.” “Yes, it relaxes me.” I further explained, but felt I felt a loss for words. “Relaxes you?”, they laughed. Then I proceeded to tell them how I loved to sweep, it was like dancing to me.
Later I thought about why rounding up scattered dog hair, peppercorns, chips of onion skin and gritty pebbles from outside, into my broom makes me feel something more than just ticking off a chore. I concluded that perhaps all of messy fragments of the days activities gathered in my dustpan reminds me that we “live” in our home and that prancing dogs, messy cooks who make delicious food, drooling grand babies, toddlers with coconut treats, teenagers who don’t remove their boots and aging parents with walkers, helps me realize how blessed my floors are for all of the feet who have come to dirty them. All of the feet gathered on the same floors kicking about the crumbs, that at the end of the day, I will sweep into an aggregated clump of appreciation.
I am a Catholic and love a good prayer card or religious poem. I have never seen or heard of this treasure you found. I intend to print this out place it just inside my broom closet.
Thank you for sharing this Jenny. Easter blessings to you and yours all the year through.