God Talk and Tea

Extraordinary moments and extraordinary people add richness to life

  Perhaps one of the most extraordinary moments in my life came when I was given the privilege of photographing Mother Teresa on her visit to our diocese. I was so nervous I failed miserably at the shots I took, but I was delighted to snap one image of her laughing with her fellow sisters.

 

In looking through the few photos I have left, I also realized that what was most extraordinary was sharing the moment with other people who have made a mark on my life, most especially Bishop Edward T. Hughes.

 

It is sad that during our lifetimes, the people who have had the greatest impact on us often never realize how they’ve touched us. Perhaps we are not aware of it ourselves, until they have left us, or we find it difficult to express our gratitude. Perhaps we just never think of it.

 

Perhaps this is the year when we should change all that—returning to the long lost art of the handwritten note (taking a cue from my dear friend, Pat G., whose notes never fail to make me smile).

 

For now, I will just say, it was an extraordinary moment when I held Mother Teresa’s hand, but more meaningful for me were the years when I worked in the presence of an extraordinary man and took away wisdom that will last a lifetime.

 

Many thanks, Bishop Hughes, and may God continue to bless you with good health!

Losing love changes things

It doesn’t seem possible that my dad could be gone 16 years already. But every year, as Valentine’s Day rolls around, I am reminded of the last Valentine’s Day we spent together, him in a Hospice bed, me in tears hoping that he could at least sense how much I loved him. He would die the next day, and forever change Valentine’s Day, and so much more, for me.

 I was reminded again of what he meant to me when I read a quote from Paul Gallico, who wrote the American classic, The Snow Goose. I don’t know which of his dozens of books this quote came from, or what the context was, husband and wife, lovers, or maybe friends, but his words moved me to tears.

“When two people loved each other they worked together always, two against the world, a little company. Joy was shared, trouble split. You had an ally, somewhere, who was helping.”

 I guess the quote spoke to me, not only of what is ours when we are loved, but what we don’t have when love is no more—no matter what the reason. It is the aloneness of grief, the realization that you are a company of one.

 Thank God, for time.

Nothing says lovin' like cannoli at the Jersey shore

I have made an amazing discovery. Nothing says "I love you," better than a four gallon container  
of cannoli filling. That is, if you are my dear friend John, whose appreciation of food belies family roots that stretch back to Norcia, Italy.

And cannolis are at the top of his list, along with chocolate layer cake, grilled kielbasa, pasta fagioli, and a quality "gravy." Actually, the only food not on the list is potatoes, though he’ll eat them without complaint if they’re served.

The discovery came about because one of my sons works each summer at a bakery at the Jersey shore, within walking distance of John’s house. The bakery closes for the fall and winter so rather than throw out remaining stock, my son delivered a number of goodies to John and his family. Included with the surprise was a large tub of cannoli filling.

John has been trying to track my son down for a week to thank him "Norcia" style, because, really, how many people can say they were ever the recipient of several gallons of cannoli cream?

For John, this was not just a little treat or simple pleasure. It was a gift from the angels, a reason to celebrate, and the makings of a family story that will be retold time and time again: "Do you remember the time when Chris brought me four gallons of cannoli filling??! And we ate it all even without any shells?!"

In my life, John has been the epitome of gratitude, and not just because he responds to every meal as if it was the best he’d ever eaten! Throughout the many years of our friendship I have learned that John lives on the breath of gratitude and his response is always celebratory. If an exclamation point had arms and legs, its name would be John.

It is a rare person who lives in awareness of the gifts in life. Such a person also lives in awareness of the presence of God.

In the Jewish tradition there is a deeply meaningful practice of reciting blessings throughout the day. There are blessings for eating bread, drinking wine, smelling spices or fruit, upon arising, when bathing, at bedtime, to name a few. This practice requires that a person pause in the moment, focus their attention on the gifts of God, which we too often overlook, and offer an intention of the heart full of gratitude. In so doing, we acknowledge that God is the source of all good and the reason for our joy.

No doubt in my mind that God is the mover and shaker behind canolli, the Jersey shore, and a very special friend like John!

You say grace before meals. All right. But I say grace before the concert and the opera, and grace before the play and pantomime, and grace before I open a book, and grace before sketching, painting, swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing and grace before I dip the pen in the ink. ~G.K. Chesterton

 

Copyright © 2010 by Mary Regina Morrell