Oh When The Saints.....

Go Marching In......

Well our four little saints began marching this morning, as the school celebrates All Saints Day and not Halloween. Before my very eyes, I saw my little ones transform into: St. Elizabeth of Hungary (basket of bread and all!), St. Michael the Archangel (sword, shield and wings), Our Lady of Guadalupe (with all her stars), and our 4 year old as Queen Esther.

They were thrilled to say the least, smiling proudly for the camera, and I snapped a few pictures. The children loved to hear the stories about their particular saint, loved to imitate the good deeds they had done. St. Elizabeth went about the house this morning, elegantly giving bread to all the imaginary beggars of the house. St. Michael, as you can expect, went about slaying evil creatures that crawl about. Our Lady gave hugs and "love yous" to anyone she encountered. And Queen Esther, with her royal crown and sparkle dress, simply told her subjects what to do, where to go, and how to live.

It was such a sight. Thinking about my last blog on Halloween, and that my post was filled with more strong words than I usually prefer....I guess I felt strongly on the subject, as this morning I was reminded why.

The kids love to play dress up. They love to pretend to live out a character, reliving the

story in actions, in dress, even in speech. And honestly I just can't imagine wanting to see my kids living out any other story than one of a Saint.

So now, a message to those trick or treaters who will be ringing our bell in a few days. WE are the dark house, blinds pulled shut, and no answer at the door. As a kid, myself I always wondered about those dark houses with no answer to the doorbell. I always thought it inhabited a cranky old man who didn't want visitors, didn't want to be bothered. And now, I know, perhaps the family who lived there, simply didn't want their children to see scary faces and costumes knocking at the door. How hindsight is truly

20/20. Thankfully, now, I am glad I never played a trick on those quiet, dark homes.

Comments

Domo Arigato Gozaimasu Nihon - Thank You Japan

First, I apologize. It's almost been a week since my last post, and life certainly has a way to take me over. Arigato Gozaimasu - Thank You We have many commitments, many places where we have promised our time and energy, and when sickness sets in for me or anyone in our home, life pretty much stops....for little while anyway. Thankfully, the illnesses are down to minor colds, and as of yesterday, I am off the meds to treat a sinus infection. But that's not all. It's re-enrollment time at school, and every March we face the same uncertain future in debate...Can we swing yet another year's worth of financial commitment to our Catholic school, for four children. It's a stressful time, it's uncertain, and I have to say, that security is something I thrive on. Any insecurity, and I tell you, life just isn't right. With the children unaware of our finessing the budget, we work to keep that calm and peace that assures the children all will be well.

Words Can Hurt

When we first started having children, like most people, we realized quickly how they often work as a mirror to our own actions. Letting a swear word slip here or there was not uncommon in our home, yet, when our first child was about 18 months or so, and hearing my swear word echo in the house for several days from her little lips, well, it was enough to curb my speech, dramatically. And now, swear words are never spoken in front of the children, and we have adopted a few more words that are unacceptable in the house, even though common place in the world. Just another example at how, as parents, we truly are the domestic church. The world may be on the path of negativity, but the home is where we make the difference. My four year old the other day, said, "I hate tomatoes!" Not the worst thing to hear from her mouth, granted, however, the word 'hate' bothers me a lot. 'Hate' is a very strong word, opposite of 'Love'. Think of how strong that word,

Little Guys and Big Things

Sometimes, Veggie Tales stick with you. Even when an 8 year old seems too old for Veggie Tale stories, and reluctantly watches a few, the messages do stick. Over the weekend, my Knight was to serve Mass. For the past few Sundays he has been serving, and we keep reminding him of the various ways to show reverence while doing his duties.....a bow to the tabernacle, folding of the hands and so forth. Sunday, I happened to be watching Knight lather his gel in his hair to ready for Mass, and I once again, reminded him to keep his reverent ways about him while serving. He made a distinct face at me, and said, "Ugh, Mom, those other server boys are bigger than me. I don't want to do something they aren't doing." "I understand, but you could set the example, because you know, what you are doing is the right thing." He shook his head, looked at himself in the mirror, and seeing his own image reflected, said again, "I'm the youngest one there, Mom

S.tay A.t H.ome M.om at Work

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