A Dream Worth Keeping

The day of the rehearsal for my daughter’s first dance recital, the rain was as close to a monsoon as it gets on Long Island. My 14-year-old put her 4-year-old sister’s hair up into a bun and arranged her tutu just so. We left an hour before our assigned rehearsal time; with a seldom-used umbrella I carried my little ballerina to the car so she wouldn’t have to step in any puddles.

With my windshield wipers on their highest setting, I could barely see. A truck threw gallons of water on my windshield. “Freakin’ truck!” I complained.

In her toddler seat, my little girl repeated, “Freakin’ truck!” The kids laughed as I reprimanded myself.

I found the entrance for the Stellar Arts Center and entered the parking garage, much dismayed to see that I would have to pay $4 for the privilege of parking. I sent my older daughters ahead to look at the sign which mapped out the university’s buildings. Once they were sure of the path, they led the way and I carried our little girl to the proper doorway.

The dance teacher was a half hour late, which gave more latecomers time to get into their places on time. The studio owners grumbled about how their schedule had been jumbled by her lateness. We all knew she had been suffering adversity other than the weather. The girls played about happily in the front row, the last time they would be able to see each other all together other than at the actual show.

Finally they were ready for us. The girls went up, ages 2 through 5, with no problems because they were so comfortable with their teacher. They took their places, laying in a sleeping position. They danced to a number from one of the original save-the-rainforest animated movies, “Fern Gulley”. I was glad this class got to do a real ballet number, because the other “combo” classes were doing tap, and my daughter wants to be a prima ballerina.

My other children were with me, partly as a way to save money so I wouldn’t have to pay $25.50 for each of them to see their sister’s number on Saturday, partly because I was not sure if their ball game schedule would interfere with their ability to come that day. They got to see it twice, and were happy with that. I got all the pictures I needed.

The studio owner came to the edge of the stage and said, “They could use a touch of color.” To me, a touch of color means a little sun. She meant makeup.

“My daughter can’t wear makeup,” I said, “She has allergies.” The other mothers knew what I meant, because it had come up in conversation recently. Some of us were okay with a little makeup and some of us were adamantly against it for girls so young.

“Well, for those of you without allergies, I recommend a little blush and lipstick. Their faces get washed out onstage and they come up better on the video with a little makeup.”

A video I would not be buying anyway. The recommendation made me a little upset.

Saturday came, and all their games were canceled, but we decided just Kevin and I would go with her. Audrey did her hair again. Sans makeup, I thought she was the most beautiful ballerina I had ever seen.

It was a beautiful day, and parking was free that day. We walked to the center together. I was forced to hand her over to the studio owner backstage. “Will she be okay?” my husband asked.

In the dance arena, she is totally at ease. I knew she would be fine.

The show opened with a ridiculous “artistic” number; then the curtain opened on the little girls. The audience oohed and aahed at the precious little ones “sleeping” on the stage. They “awoke”; the littler girls followed the older girls, who were following the dance teacher offstage. They missed a few steps (I had seen this in practice many times in the studio) and came off their assigned places, but that did not detract from the performance. I cried of course.

I had to go back to retrieve her. She was all smiles when I handed her a light pink carnation. Most of her friends were going home, and she wanted to do the same.

“But I thought you wanted to see the rest of the show,” I protested, “Daddy is waiting for you in our seats.”

She got increasingly upset as we entered the dark theatre. She insisted she wanted to go home. The music was too loud, she said. She was obviously overwhelmed at the enormity of the experience. So we went home.

And she slept, this time for real, wearing her purple tutu.

Petition against Statue Offending Our Blessed Mother

Mary was pure and courageous enough to give birth to Jesus, who gave his life that we might live.

Along comes artist Soasig Chamaillard who blasphemes the names of Mary and Jesus, turning Our Blessed Mother into a vampire. Vampires represent the anti-Christ; they suck the blood and life out of people while he gave his blood that we might live. In the form of a statue, Mary is also represented as My Little Pony and Superwoman.

Note that while I am for free speech and expression, we also have the right to express outrage when Our Lord and Our Lady are attacked. If you are horrified by these misrepresentations, please take a moment to sign a petition to remove this exhibit from the Albane Art Gallery in the city of Nantes, France.

The Kitchen Madonna by Rumer Godden

This little gem is a great story to read out loud with the whole family. Only 89 pages and not separated into chapters, the book can easily be read in an hour silently, or two hours aloud.

The character who sets the story in motion is Marta, the Ukrainian housekeeper brought into a London home. She tells the children of the house that she is sad that the kitchen has no “good place”. She describes to them how her kitchen in her native home had a special place for a shrine with a beautiful picture of Our Lady and the Holy Child. The Madonna had to be a specially adorned picture in a beautiful frame. She was to be crusted with gold and stones of many colors.

Gregory, a quiet and artistic boy, recruits his sister Janet to help him with his mission to create a “good place” for Marta’s Madonna. First they go shopping, thinking they can purchase an icon, but they are too expensive and they lose what little money they have. Then he finds a picture in the newspaper that he can use as an outline. He goes to a material shop and, after describing his project to the owner, is given lovely materials to work with.

Finally he produces his handmade Madonna, in a beautiful picture frame, and sets it in a special spot in the kitchen, set about with little red votive candles. Marta and his entire family are blessed by his creation, and he vows to produce many more of its kind.

This story is so simple and touching. It shows that there can be meaning in physical things. It delves into the artistic process of creation. It explores the innocent motives of a child wanting to please a loved one in his life. Finally, it describes the blessings of the vision of the Madonna and Child, in the many forms they may take.

Published by Viking Press in 1967. Out of print but available used from online sellers such as Amazon.com

100

Tonight I reach a bloggers’ milestone: 100 posts. As I keep to a simple theme and yet try not to be redundant, it is always a challenge to try to see and say things from a different perspective. And yet every day is new, with its share of blessings and challenges as we walk the pilgrim’s walk toward salvation. The mothers’ tasks are at once the same and ever-changing, like a river. With Christ in our hearts we can take advantage of every moment to live for Him, and to teach our children to do the same.

Tonight we went to the Sat. evening mass, as we are expecting a big snowstorm tonight. Later, after dinner, we waited outside as the local fire department sent round its Santa Claus parade. Then, with candy canes in hand, we read Isaiah 11 as part of our Jesse Tree tradition for Advent. One of the most beautiful images of the Bible is contained therein:
“The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.”(verse 6b)

Pictured above: “A Jesse Tree”, by Girolamo Genga, c. 1535, National Gallery, London.

How do I find appropriate art to go with the Bible verses I quote?
I recommend the web site “Bible Art: Resources for Catholic Educators”.

Portraits of a Turkey

Much of New York is shopping today, on “Black Friday”, the commercial kick-off to the Christmas season. The malls were open at 4 A.M. this morning for those who wanted to get an early start. I suspect many of my readers, like me, avoided the sale craze in favor of a warm, cozy day indoors with the children, baking, crafting, or playing games.

The children made me these beautiful turkey pictures for Thanksgiving yesterday. The eldest made the most flamboyant, resembling a peacock as much as it does a turkey. My son also made a colorful one, with a serious look much like his own. My eight-year-old dreamer was aiming for a realistic-looking turkey.

I woke up to her shrieking while they were in the middle of making their surprise cards Thanksgiving morning. She ran to her room and would not tell me what had upset her. I peeked in the garbage and saw a crumpled-up paper with the cutest little turkey head, and a body that had obviously disappointed her. She would not cheer up until she had gotten it right. I think she did a mighty fine job.

I find it amazing how much of one’s self can be found in a portrait of an animal. Posture, pose, and the look of the eye and mouth are likely to be reflected in any picture created by a child. When the children are in school next week, I can look at these turkeys and feel the presence of each of my little ones.

“God looked at everything He had made, and He found it very good.”
Genesis 1:31a