by Mary Clifford Morrell
Some of my greatest pleasures as a writer and editor are the notes I received from readers over the years. Some continue to stay in contact, and I have come to consider them as friends. I have kept almost all the notes I have received during the past 25 years, and, occasionally, while cleaning out my files, I take them out and re-read them.
They often give me the boost of encouragement I need when my spirit is lagging. I am grateful for them and the people who took the time to write them.
I am certainly giving away my age by admitting I lived during the time of Emily Post manners, which meant such things as white gloves when you went shopping, Sunday best clothes for Mass, and cultivating the now lost art of the thank you note.
I learned that manners, and especially expressions of gratitude, are more than just trite social mores. They are opportunities to express respect and appreciation of others, build and nurture relationships, and develop that most crucial virtue—gratitude.
I believe the power of the handwritten note of any kind lies in both the words, a creative power themselves, and the time spent to write it and deliver it. You never know what good those two creative forces, time and words, will bring in to the lives of others.
When I was cleaning out my childhood home after the death of my parents, I discovered among their most treasured possessions letters sent between them during my father’s military service, poems and notes I had written to them as a child, cards with notes inside from friends and acquaintances, and even from high school students in the school where my mom worked as a secretary.
Many of those notes were expressions of gratitude for things my parents would never have considered as exceptional. What was exceptional for them were the thank you notes.
To be honest, I have fallen short in this area over the years. I could give dozens of excuses why, but they would be just that, excuses. Indeed, the world is different. We communicate so much digitally we often forget about the legacy of paper and pen—a sad thing for me as a writer to be admitting.
Still, I want to truly embrace what I have always believed—not everything old fashioned is outdated or without value. So I have posted a reminder at my computer, where I have also stashed some lovely, inexpensive blank note cards and a sheet of stamps.
The reminder is a Scripture quote from Ephesians, under the heading Children of Light: “Sing and make music in your hearts to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (5:19,20).
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Recently, a very dear friend mentioned that all three of her daughters, married with children, were selling their houses simultaneously. The first of the houses had sold within a week of being on the market.
I was happy for them but recalled the very long and painful experience of trying to sell our house at the New Jersey shore several years after Super Storm Sandy destroyed our neighborhood.
It took my husband almost two years to restore the house after being flooded with four feet of water, but the insurance was inadequate to complete the repairs, so we were forced to sell the house we had planned to retire to, and which had given us many wonderful family memories.
Friends suggested I bury a statue of Saint Joseph in the yard, but the tradition seemed to be more superstition than faith, and why upside down? Why not prayers to the saint suffice? However, after almost nine months on the market with no offers and the bank breathing down our neck with foreclosure, I gave in to pressure and thought, “What do I have to lose?”
I had a statue of Saint Joseph, or so I thought, handed down to me after my mom died. I took it from the shelf and asked my husband to bury it in the front lawn, upside-down facing the house. As the instructions came out of my mouth, I could not believe what I was hearing. I rationalized it by telling myself it was my alter ego, a desperate woman grasping at straws.
One morning, after the deed was done, I realized it was not Saint Joseph I buried but Saint Anthony. How embarrassing!
Determined to make the best of it, I apologized to Saint Anthony and asked him to do what he does best, find things and people, like a buyer for our house. I suggested he collaborate with Saint Joseph, the patron saint of households, who had already heard from me many times.
So, maybe I should not have been surprised that within three weeks following the “burial,” we had three showings and a potential buyer. It took a few months longer actually to close a deal and beat the bank’s foreclosure process.
I prepared places of honor in my den for the two saints who have seemingly forgiven my silliness. I believe they were very much aware of my real need, not just to sell the house, but to be able to detach myself emotionally from a place that held a great deal of meaning and memories.
Undoubtedly, the saints are as numerous as the stars in the heavens, each shining their unique light on the world. These two saints, Joseph and Anthony, were standing by when I sought direction from God, prayed and cried, and asked for wisdom to make the right decisions.
They heard my words, “…through the intercession of the saints,” and they stepped in, not as real estate agents, but as companions... companions who are always consolers, always leading us to God and, sometimes, responsible for miracles.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.by Mary Clifford Morrell
To say this has been an unusual year would be an understatement. It has been a year of significant challenges, struggles, and disappointments. Many of us are obligated to get to know our families better by spending every waking moment in their company. It has also been a time of prayer, or at least interior cries of "God, help me!"
Prayer does not come easy to many people. One of the most common comments I hear from readers is their insecurity when it comes to prayer. Many feel that they just do not know how to pray.
I share with them the thought of Saint Teresa of Avila, a doctor of the Church: "Prayer is being on terms of friendship with God, frequently conversing in secret with him who, we know, loves us."
When someone loves us, they expectantly wait for us to reach out to them with trust and love, with whatever words we have. Why would God, who is perfect love, expect any less? The Church's mothers and fathers have repeatedly taught that God desires an intimate relationship with us, not a routine one.
Pope Francis once posed a question to be considered by every Christian: "Do you think of God as someone who loves you?"
Our perception of God, he explained, has a great deal to do with our prayer life.
I often share the story of an old Irish woman living alone in a cottage tucked away in the mountainous crags along Ireland's coast. I like the story so much because it reflects the varying emotions I have from day to day, and the comfort I have in letting God know exactly how I feel.
One day, a visitor made his way to the old woman's cottage and, upon entering, announced he had come to see her because she was alone and in need of company.
"Alone, is it?!" she laughed with delight, "With Himself and his Blessed Mother keeping me company?" She waved a gnarled hand at the pictures that hung over the hearth – the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary.
Later, that same visitor would return to the cottage and find one of the beloved pictures missing from its place of honor. The old woman furrowed her brow, saying, "We are having a tiff, he and I!"
Then she pointed to the drawer where she had stashed her dearest friend, face down no less.
Nevertheless, tiffs come to an end, and this wise, delightful woman, who loved and trusted God with the heart of a child, could most often be heard praying, in joy, anger, and grief, "Sweet Jesus!"
Saint Paul reminds us of the need to "pray without ceasing," which may seem like a dauntless task unless we take a different perspective.
Saint Augustine talks about the disposition of the heart and soul, as compared to the activity of saying prayers, explaining, "If your desire is continual, your prayer is continual."
Still, many people prefer speaking the words of a prayer. I have a collection of prayer books from both the Catholic and Jewish faiths and use them often. Having them handy in times of distress brings me great comfort, allowing me to speak the words I need to say when my brain is too overwhelmed to think of anything else.
We are all uniquely made by God. I am confident that God understands our individual prayer lives and is aware of our deep desire to pray, even if we are not confident in our words.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
One of my favorite things about virtual Masses has been hearing the different hymn selections at various parishes, especially those parishes in other countries.
When I tuned into this past Sunday's Mass, a lovely voice sang the opening hymn words, "All are welcome in this place."
I hadn't heard this hymn since my days in catechetical service when it was sung at many religious educators' conferences.
For a moment, I recalled with a smile one night many years earlier when my husband and I and our six sons were sitting in our living room watching TV, some of us on the couch, some on chairs, and some on the floor.
Suddenly the front door opened, and two young women, obviously dressed for an evening out, stepped into the living room. I had no idea who they were, but none of us moved from our spots. They smiled at me. I smiled back and asked, "Can I help you?"
The young women realized they were in the wrong place and apologized, explaining they were supposed to be at the Elks Lodge somewhere in the neighborhood. "You have that big 'Welcome' sign hanging on the front porch, so we thought it was all right to come in," they said.
I assured them it was fine, we all laughed, and my husband walked them back to their waiting taxi and gave them directions to the Elks Lodge.
I've always wondered if that welcome sign has anything to do with the many unexpected visitors who knock on our door—asking for help of some kind, directions, gas, money, a phone call, or just a safe place to sit for a few minutes.
Perhaps my own experience has made the hymn words more meaningful to me, as in the first verse:
Let us build a house where love can dwell
and all can safely live,
a place where saints and children tell
how hearts learn to forgive.
Built of hopes and dreams and visions,
rock of faith and vault of grace;
here the love of Christ shall end divisions.
All are welcome, all are welcome,
all are welcome in this place.
(“All Are Welcome” words and music by Marty Haugen. Copyright © 1994 by GIA Publications, Inc. All rights reserved.)
The composer seems to be writing about our Catholic faith's radical hospitality, lived both in our personal lives and the sacred rites of our religion, particularly the Mass, where we encounter Jesus in response to his invitation to "Come, follow me."
With Jesus, explained the same Sunday Mass's homilist, "there was no such thing as an outsider." He reminded us that Jesus was disparagingly referred to as the friend of tax collectors and sinners, and it was for these that he came, hoping to build the vital relationship that leads to faith.Pope Francis has long stressed the importance of recognizing each other as brothers and sisters, as a pathway to peace and solidarity across the world. So it is no surprise that on Oct. 3, the Holy Father will sign a n
ew encyclical on human fraternity entitled "Fratelli Tutti," which may be translated in English as "Brothers and sisters, all."
Our journeys may begin with the radical hospitality of our faith—offered or received.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.PRODUCT SUGGESTION
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