Well, we're back! Joseph and I took a week long trip to Ontario for my grandma's funeral and to visit with family and friends. It was a little of a whirlwind visit, with five busy days of funeral and extended family gatherings, followed by a couple days of less busy hanging out with aunties and uncles.

Joseph was a trooper -- flying like a true pilot, putting up with numerous fan clubs, and generally putting smiles on faces wherever he ran! Although our return flight has put us into major recovery mode (due to unforeseen flight delays, a very late night, and jet lag), we had great trips despite our two 10-12hr travel days.

In the cockpit

The funeral was very beautiful, with lovely music and three priests in attendance. Grandma had most of her 25 grandchildren and all of her great-grandchildren there to pray for her. Throughout Friday-Monday we had numerous meals together (all 30-something of us) and lots of play time. The Mombo pool was open and freezing, but lots of the younger crowd, including Joseph, took advantage of the opportunity for quick dips. Playmobile frenzies, jam sessions, and soccer games were the main activities of the weekend. Thankfully, the weather was beautiful so the crowd of family could spread out throughout my parents' house, pool, pond area, and front lawn. In fact, I think the good weather was the key for a successful gathering.

An attempt at a family picture: note Joseph far right

Intense Playmobile session

Jamming in the kitchen

Joseph did very well, considering the number of new faces, all anxious to befriend him. He and Samson got along tremendously -- Joseph yelling, "Hey, no" whenever Sam barked and Sam blissfully ignoring/oblivious to him due to his supposed lack of hearing. Joseph made great friends with all his uncles and aunties again, perhaps showing special affection for his newest uncle, "uh pat." Not knowing Pat didn't live at Grandpa and Grandma's, Joseph went walking around one morning looking for him, only to be very excited when he and Aunty Maddy showed up to visit.  

With Sam, otherwise known as "Emma" or "Dog"

My handsome little man

With "uh Pat"

Joseph took full advantage of the opportunity to boss his grandparents, uncles, and aunts around. They, in turn, seemed delighted to answer his every wish. A little "brrm, brrm" from Joseph would have someone running to ask permission to take him on the tractor; a "boat" had Grandma taking him for a ride in the canoe; "big l'eau" meant a trip to check out the pond; "ball" meant someone would play throw-and-retrieve with the ball in the pool, holding tightly to Joseph and blocking him from jumping in. Grandma even spoiled Joseph and I by buying us dairy-free "ice cream" bars that resulted in extended exclamations of "mmm" from Joseph. Kids books were retrieved from the basement and Playmobile, cars, and small chairs hauled out to entertain the little rascal. He was thoroughly spoiled, as any only-grandchild is. I have a feeling we might have a few more days of a whiny kid as he gets used to being disciplined a little more and not having so many people at his beck-and-call. 

Playing chase with Aunty Maddy and Uncle Ben

Throw-and-retrieve with Aunty Bridget and Maddy

Guitar with "Pa"

We were so happy to have the chance to visit, but we're also really glad to be home. When Grandma Millette picked us up at the airport, sleepy little Joseph had a huge smile on his face, knowing we were going home to Daddy. And while Daddy stayed up late to welcome us, Joseph was sound asleep and didn't know he was home until morning. But boy was he excited to discover his Daddy and his toys when he woke up.

Thanks for the visit, Am-ma and Pa! We'll come again soon.

The whole clan, minus Dan

Photo credits: Blaise Mombourquette

Holmes Makes it Right (at any cost)

Having Becca and Joseph away for a week *tear* has given me a little extra time to do some important things. However, I have squandered some of that time by watching T.V., namely Mike Holmes' Make it Right shows. Hey, there was a Mike Holmes marathon this past weekend!

In these shows Holmes goes to some house where the homeowners perhaps suspect a few problems with their house. Holmes then inspects the house and, low and behold, the house is an entire mess. The wiring is dangerously done, there is no insulation, there are leaks everywhere, squirrels are living in the attic, there's asbestos everywhere... so then Mr. Holmes comes in and makes it right.

The show is entertaining, but also very scary. I can't imagine what it must be like buying a house. Holmes will address horror stories of how families move into a house, one that fully passes an inspection, and just four days later they discover that they need 100,000 of repairs. Scary indeed. Now there are some little details I would be able to handle in buying a house. For instance, on the house we rent I noticed right away when first looking at it that the siding and trim was not put on properly. The result? This spring the house started leaking water by the interior top of our kitchen window. I can't imagine the mess inside the walls of this house. But that's one little aspect of the house. I wouldn't have a clue when it comes to many of the details that Holmes notices. The guy is pretty good. Though, in fairness to home inspectors, they aren't allowed to punch holes in the ceiling to check a pipe, whereas Holmes just makes himself at home.

There are no houses that are spared from poor construction. For instance, many older homes are full of structural and wiring problems. Plus, all homes built before 1985 have the danger of asbestos. But my favourite shows to watch are when he goes in to fix a newer house. You know the type, the fancy Ancaster houses which a big contracting company literally races through to build and then sell for $500,000 plus. When we lived in Ancaster Becca and I would shake our heads at how fast these homes would go up around us. We agreed that there must be a lot of problems in them. Low and behold, in one episode of Holmes we were watching he was working on a house that looked almost familiar. It turns out is was a newer house by a park that we frequently used to walk by! The house was a complete mess, but sadly I dare say many of the houses there, all built by the same companies, are.

Now I'm sure Mike Holmes drives many contractors nuts. They must wonder what it's like to walk up to a job with 10-20 people running around doing your work for you. And then Holmes always shows up at the end as the big hero. That's not at all how it actually goes. Knowing many carpenters, I can tell you that the job is full of long hours, stress, and small budgets to work with. But Holmes... oh no! Not him! He has a crew to die for, and then money is no expense either (at least to him). There was one show that it was apparent that the shingles and sheeting needed to be replace. Holmes calls up a company to do it, but then he has them put on 5/8 blue-treated plywood on the roof just to make sure "it's done right." Um... 7/8 OSB is perfectly fine. 5/8 blue-treated plywood costs a fortune, and is completely over the top. Yet Holmes is there talking about how well he's fixing the problem. The final bill to fix the roof: $19,500!

So where am I going with this? I guess I'm torn on Mike Holmes. On the one hand I really appreciate how he gets to the root of the problem and is very thorough with his inspections. He is very fun to watch and I am learning a lot from him. On the other hand, people must keep in mind that what he does is not realistic, and that he spends way too much money on products when it is completely unnecessary. I would never get him in to fix a house of mine.

I could never afford it.

But, I must that I get a chuckle when our Ancaster friends, the ones with fancy cars and 1.5 kids, spare no expense to have Holmes "Make it Right."

And I Did it My Way

Seeing as it has been over three years since I last lived on my own, I was completely unsure of what to expect this week with Becca and Joseph away. The bottom line is this: I thought I was busy before I got married and had Joseph, but I don't think I had any idea how busy life could get.

When I lived on my own I actually kept quite busy. I worked 30 hours a week at the Academy. I did 20 hours a week of course work for my Master's degree. I altar-served and did sacristan work for Father Shalla for 8-10 Masses a week. I did all my workouts, runs, and sports games too (more sports games, in fact). I also was able to help others more. I helped families move into new houses. I volunteered at BBQs. I was involved setting up events at the church. I helped out with the adoration group. I even took the time to visit regularly with my elderly landlords. My, what a holy vocation single life was!

What a selfish life it was, I say!

For all the things that I volunteered at, and spent time and energy on, they were all on my own terms. Everything revolved around what worked for my own schedule, and whether or not I needed to rest instead, or some time away, or time and space to cook myself a nice supper, or just whatever. Very seldom did I do anything that was not more than a minor inconvenience to me. Though the world needs single people, for they can be more dedicated than married people to helping out in a community, I must admit that I didn't know how to actually give of my time and energy until Joseph came along. 

With a little family there is nothing that I do on my own terms. It's all on Joseph's terms! Want to go to the city for the weekend? Joseph's been cranky and it would be a disaster so forget it! Want to go out for ice cream? Becca and Joseph are still off the dairy so forget it! Need an hour or two in the evening to work on a course? Joseph needs someone to play with so forget it! Need some peace and quiet? Joseph's been whining all day so forget it! Dead tired and need to sleep? Joseph will have a really rough night and wake up every 30 minutes so forget it! You get the idea.

I think of how when I was single I occasionally filled in for people at adoration at 2am. It was such a difficult thing for me to do! Imagine, having to get up at 1:40am, run across town in the cold, and then stay awake for an hour of "prayer" before running back home and hoping to get to sleep. Why, I used to be in such a bad mood the day after such ordeals! Yet, now that I think of it, the people I used to fill in for at 2am were all dads with large families. They were probably so used to being up at all hours of the night that going to weekly adoration at 2am was no big deal for them. Heck, it was probably the most quiet they got at night! This goes to show just how tough you have to be to have a family. And boy does it take time and pain to get  there (for the record, I'm definitely not "there" yet).

Now that I've been home alone for the week, I once again see how much free time single people have. The fact is that no matter how busy I was as a single person, I always had that time from 8-10pm every night just for myself, just to do whatever I want. But now Becca and I get about 1 to 5 minutes (and seriously, no more than 5 minutes) of time to read and relax each night, from the time Joseph falls asleep until we need to get some sleep. Everything we do is on somebody else's terms.

I keep thinking how blessed and lucky we are! Monks and nuns spiritually live and die by how obedient they are to their superiors. Their lives are not their own. Yet marriage is so profoundly similar to the Religous life (minus the opportunity for daily Mass, adoration, confession... you know what I mean). The idea of not living according to our own wants and desires, and of always sacrificing and giving, is inherently spiritually sanctifying (minus the complaining we all do). In other words, this week on my own has taught me one thing for certain: 

that I would never want to go back to the single life. 

Though perhaps for selfish reasons too.

We "Like" Affirmation

The world of facebook is a strange place. The one word that comes to mind when thinking of facebook is affirmation. It seems that so many people are using facebook in order to attain affirmation from others. Yet if we looked at what people are actually doing, boy is it ever weird! So I have come up with five unusual things people do on facebook to attain affirmation from others.

Note: obviously I have been guilty of some of these from time to time.

1) "Happy Birthday! You're the best!"

Inevitably some mother (sometimes a father, but usually a mother) wishes their little boy or girl a happy birthday on facebook. It usually goes something like this:

Happy Birthday to my dear little Johnny! One year old today. You are the most precious boy ever! I am soooo grateful for you! I love you dearly!!!!

The responses to these status are usually as follows:

"Aww! Happy birthday to Johnny! You're such a great mother!"

or

"Love this status! You sure are amazing to wish him happy birthday like that!"

or

"I love the picture of you and Johnny! You look absolutely gorgeous! We should talk soon."

The problem, of course, is that little Johnny is not on facebook. In fact, little Johnny can't read. Little Johnny probably doesn't know or care what facebook is. He's a baby! Yet the status is addressed to him. All around affirmation ensues, of course. Now writing letters to someone else who won't read them can be an effective literary tool (e.g. "Dear Mr. President, here is an open letter addressed to you. For starters, you're an idiot..."). However, writing letters to someone who can't even read them, be it a baby, or a deceased person, perhaps lacks that quality of, oh how should I put this?, having a chance that the addressed audience could physically read it.


2) My Supper

Status:

"I made stuffed lobster with garlic, scallops, cilantro, and a red wine vinaigrette on a sauteed spinach salad with glazed apple spice sauce for supper."

Responses:

"Yum! You are amazing!"

or

"Wow, that is incredible! It must be so awesome being you!

or

"You stuffed the lobster wrong. I actually learned lobster cuisine from Chef Michael Bonacini one summer. My lobsters turn out more colourful. More colour means more flavour. That's how I do it."

The inevitable response to all of this is (pardon the grammatical error):

3) The Words to My Song...

Ah yes, maybe the best, and most rampant, of all. These statuses contain the very meaning of life itself, or at least to the person writing them. Let's picture the scenario. Someone (let's say a girl, because their songs are more sappy... haha) is at home alone. She has music cranked up (ok, I've done this too). She's in a very contemplative mood. What is life? Who is she? Then, then the song comes on. Every inch of her being elevates herself to the song. The song is speaking to her. The song is her. Moved by this once in a lifetime event, she runs to facebook, and frantically types the epic words:

Don't you know things can change?

Things'll go your way

If you hold on for one more day

Can you hold on for one more day?

Things'll go your way

Hold on for one more day

Wilson Phillips, you wrote this song forseeing this moment in time.

Now the responses are usually lacking for these statuses. Most people simply are not in the proper state of being to see the magnitude of this status at this particular moment in history. So they remain silent. Others, however, quickly google the lyrics provided, and then write down what the song is, the band, and some other tidbit. Thus, they are made to seem pretty smart as well. Example:

"Wilson and Phillips. 1990. Won the Billboard Music Award for Hot 100 Single of the Year."

Others, though, give a sympathetic:

"Great song."

or

"Good times."

In other words, the song lyrics status usually backfires when seeking affirmation. The only tried, tested, and true lyrics to use, however, would simply be to write:

"Don't stop believing!"

This never fails!


4) "Prayers Please!"

Not to make light of a serious issue, but every week someone leaves the mysterious status:

"Prayers Please!"

That's it. That's it? "Prayers Please!"? Did someone get hit by a car? Or are you hoping that comic book you want is available on Amazon?

The responses to these statuses are usually:

"Done!"

or

"Aww. I will! Are you ok? Let's talk on the phone soon."

or

"I hope everything is ok. You're the greatest! Much love. Hang in there!"

Very odd indeed. Be careful when asking for prayers on facebook. I personally find it best to give a little bit of information regarding the purpose of these prayers. Why? Because praying that someone else finds a comic book on Amazon is trivial (I'd rather pray that the person gets a life).


5) I "Like" Me

Ahh yes. Someone writes a status. A status on anything. Example:

"Behind every successful man is a surprised woman."

Ok. That's pretty good. I like funny status updates. But then the person giving the status, as if to get the affirmation-party started, goes and likes his/her own status.

Like

Oh no! Don't do that! When seeking affirmation on facebook, don't give it to yourself first! At least not in public!


Final Thoughts

I hope this post didn't offend anyone. To be honest, I have done some of these things before. The point was more to laugh at what we do. Why do we seek attention for ourselves like this? We are so starved for affirmation, aren't we. Well, I don't do this stuff on facebook anymore. I'm better than that. I don't need to write status updates in order to feel affirmed...


...that's what this blog is for.

Death and All of His Friends

The theme for this past week has been death. Usually deaths come in threes, but that number was expanded a bit this week. For starters, last Saturday a classmate of mine in my distance Masters studies passed away. She had melanoma. Sadly she leaves behind a husband and two young boys. Then of course there is the murder of Tim Bosma of Ancaster. To be clear, I never knew him, though I certainly know many people who do (via Redeemer University in Ancaster). Also, as stated in the previous blog by Becca, Grandma Hamon died peacefully early Sunday morning. Her funeral is at 10:30am this morning. Included on the death list is the man who baptized me, Fr. Roland Gaudet. His funeral was yesterday morning. He was just a tremendous priest. The final death for the week that I know of sadly affects a teacher at my school. Her 13 year old son was killed in a tragic ATV accident on Wednesday night. The young boy's funeral will be on Monday.

Husbands. Mothers. Grandmothers. Sons. Priests.

There are many ways to deal with all of these deaths. But I think ignoring them is not one of the proper ways. You see, we were told at school to not tell our students about the death of the teacher's son. Only her class would know about it. Apparently, according to the psychologists, knowing about the death would be too stressful for the kids. Well, I let my thoughts be known to the VP after hearing this (it's not the VP's fault, but in that position you have to be prepared to hear what teachers such as myself truly think).

I don't want to go into details on that conversation, but I do want to say a few general points. That is, kids, even little kids, are more than capable of having open conversations about death. In fact, they are very appreciative of this. For instance, many of my students have lost grandparents, aunts, and uncles this past year. It is hard on them. You can see it in their body language, and even in their behaviour. But we have had some very open discussions about this. When we do, they raise their hands quickly and just want to share everything, like how they feel, or how much they miss so and so. It's good for them. Being at a public school, I am not able to discuss much about the after life. However, I did use the Robert Munsch book "Love You Forever" once to teach a few things. In the story it is apparent that the old mother will die soon, yet somehow the mother's love is carried forward by the son to his new daughter. Kids love this book. Well, we had a great conversation about how, even in the face of death, their love does not end. In other words, it was a subtle way of explaining that we are not simply bodies. There is something more to us. We have powers that carry on. In other words, we have, or rather we are, an immortal soul. But that's as far as I can take it in a public school.

I also once had my class create books on how they would say goodbye to someone if they knew it would be the last time they saw them (such as a grandma). The kids loved this project. Some of them would read to the person. Others would bring roses. Still others would sing to the person. All would say "I love you," They were very appreciative of this project. Just a note, though, I have a great amount of trust from the students and so I am able to carry out these activities. I wouldn't recommend them if that trust wasn't there.

You see, it can be healthy to tackle death head on. Why not? We're all going to be there anyway! On the other hand, I see the fruits of what happens when kids do not confront the reality of death properly. For instance, there was once two tragic deaths at Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy, and another at Redeemer University College. I remember being shocked at how utterly displaced and out of sorts it made many of the students. Clearly many of the students had never experienced such tragedies before (not to say they're ever easy to deal with). At one point at Redeemer, some 4 months after the tragic death of one student, half of my class was still upset and asked the professor of the class to pause and pray with them and talk about the events. The professor did stop to pray with them. But then the "talk" part became more of a lecture. He quite bluntly told them that they can't be paralyzed like this, that they need have a healthier outlook on death (as being Christians there). It was a very wise speech by the professor, and really brought home the reality that we are training our young people to avoid dealing with death. Yet death is inevitable. I fear that the more we protect kids from death, even to avoid a day of added "stress", the less we prepare them for inevitable confrontations with death. 

Now I could say a lot more about how funerals, even Catholic ones, are now turning into a "celebration of life," but that'll maybe be for another day. For now there are only four things to remember: Death, Judgment, Heaven, Hell. They are the true reality from death. When they are understood, and adhered to, then we can rightly say in the words of St. Paul:

"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" 1 Cor. 15:55

Grandma & Me

My beautiful grandmother, Beatrice Elizabeth (Dales) Hamon, died yesterday morning with loving family surrounding her in my family's home. Grandma would have been 90 years old this September and, at the time of my grandfather's death 10 years ago, they were just 6 months shy of celebrating 60 years of marriage. She is the mother of 9 children, grandmother of 25, and great-grandmother of 4, with 2 more on the way.

Grandma has been there in my life right from the beginning. We lived close to my grandparents when I was a baby and toddler. When I was 5, my parents and grandparents bought a huge house together and made it over with a granny-suite. We saw Grandma and Grandpa every day -- except those 6 long winter months that they headed South as snow-birds and sent us comics and postcards. Grandma moved to Barry's Bay after Grandpa's death and was thrilled when I began university in the same town. We visited regularly with one another, often watching EWTN's Daily Mass or Chaplet of Divine Mercy.

We were delighted to share the first months of Joseph's life with Grandma. She always had a smile and glow on her face when we brought her little great-grandson to visit her. Although she was getting weak in the last few years, she would hold Joseph as long as she could or, as he got older and more mobile, as long as he would let her.

My grandma was a fiery, strong woman. She hated her first name, Beatrice, which she tried to remove from all official ID, replacing it with Elizabeth. I recall joking with her that I liked the name Beatrice and might name one of my children after her. Her reaction was a scornful, "I sure hope not." Everyone called her "Betty," but I still haven't figured out whether it's short for Beatrice or Elizabeth. 

Grandma was a convert to Catholicism and a staunch, tireless defender of the unborn. In her later years, you could always find a Rosary and lots of Kleenex clutched in her hands, while her lips were silently praying. She was very opinionated -- and didn't care who knew her opinion. We would often laugh at her as she "bossed" Grandpa around. He took it all in stride and they carried on a lovely banter back and forth.

One of my earliest memories is of visiting my grandparents in their Burlington home and taking a nap with Grandma in their Winnebago motor home. At about 3 years old, it was a huge exciting adventure for me -- I don't think we actually slept. Instead, Grandma and I lay on the bed above the driver seat munching on crackers and cuddling her fuzzy white yarn cat.

I was my grandma's favourite granddaughter -- and she didn't care who knew. Once when we were in the grocery store together she told this to the cashier who, with raised eyebrows, suggested Grandma was just saying so because I was the only one with her. Grandma assured her that, no, I was her favourite. But I can't fool myself, it wasn't any special personality trait I had over the other girls -- it was just that I had red hair and they didn't. 

Grandma had a slight obsession with red hair from the time she fell in love with my red-headed grandfather. When I told Grandma that Dan and I were dating, she responded immediately: "Well, of course, he was attracted to your red hair." Some time later, when I brought Dan with me to visit her, she drew him to her side, saying: "Don't you just love her red hair?" Often Grandma would tell me that she wished she could have red hair too. So I jokingly told her I'd save her some next time I got mine cut. She nodded that that would be nice. In her later years, as she was sometimes forgetting names or voices, she never had that problem with me. If I was talking to her on the phone, Mom only had to ask her: "Do you know who it is?" She would respond: "My red-headed granddaughter."

Grandma suffered a massive heart attack last Monday. She was diagnosed with congestive heart failure and the family was told she had overnight or perhaps a couple days to live. She returned home from the hospital on Tuesday and continued to surprise nurses as she spoke to those around her, sat and watched the birds, and held on through the week. We always knew she was stubborn, so I don't think this surprised any of her family. She received visitors and lots of phone calls and Skype conversations. Of course, there was constant EWTN and praying in her bedroom. She died early yesterday morning, on Mother's Day, surrounded by praying family. 

We pray for the repose of her soul and thank God for blessing our lives with hers. We love her dearly and will miss her so much!

A Golfing We Will Go!

Tisdale, known famously as the "land of rape and honey," offers a wonderful little nine-hole golf course carved out along the Doghide river (the famous Doghide river by which Corner Gas gets the name "Dog River"). The course is pretty.

Apparently.

I'll have to take their word. I've only ever seen it covered in snow, or, as the following:

The road leading to the course:

Pretty Awesome:

That's supposed to be a fairway there, not a lake:

A nice little par 3:

You can vaguely see parts of one of the greens:

Teeing 'er up. I hope I don't get it in the drink!: 

Joseph surveys the damage:

Tee-off box:

All in all it should be a good year for golf!

That's what you get from a cold seven month winter with lots of snow.

Spring is here!

We finally, finally, finally have Spring! And we are so, so, so excited about it! Check out the change in weather that occurred in a little over a week around here.

Our front lawn: Wednesday, April 24

Melting the last of our snow: Friday, May 3

Isn't it glorious!? We were outside almost all weekend simply enjoying the warmth and basking in the long-awaited sunshine. Joseph had to be dragged inside each time and, I must admit, shed a few tears at leaving his new-found freedom. 

Joseph decided to start the new season with a 5:50am wake-up call on Saturday morning. By 11:00am we had washed all our winter coats, done a bunch of stuff at Dan's school, gone for our first family run of the year, raked the front lawn, "wasted" a bunch of time, and were eating lunch. And we felt like we still had our whole day before us! 

I came around the house from dumping a garbage can full of leaves to find this little picture! Joseph is holding his jar of "bugs" (lady bugs) we collected and showing off his winter chub.

Summer lovin': Saturday, May 4

Looking for bugs

Joseph and I took much-needed naps on Saturday afternoon, then we headed outside again for a walk. Be warned: lots of pictures! Ontario Grandma misses Joseph and isn't sure she can last until our visit this summer, so we have to post lots of pictures.

Going for a walk. I think he had tears in his eyes for some reason.

Dipping feet in the cold flooding at the golf course

Nothing better than BIG sticks and water

There is a spray park just two blocks down from our house. Yay! Of course, the water isn't running yet, but we have already taken two trips there to play. Although he loved swings last summer -- and spent the last 7 months requesting to see the "wee" video of himself on a swing that's still on our camera -- Joseph freaked out on the swing this time. But the slide, duck, and car were sure fun!

In Persona Christi

A couple weeks ago, I ran across a number of riled up responses to a post at the Catholic blog The Deacon's Bench. Deacon Greg Kandra posted an email he received from a reader and asked for comment. The reader's question was: "Why don't parents take screaming kids out of Mass?"

That's not what riled me (and numerous other readers) up though. In a follow-up to her main email, the question-poser wrote saying she didn't believe young toddlers and babies belonged at Mass before they could sit through it quietly. Essentially, she didn't believe they "got anything" out of Mass and often added to others' distractions. Sure, play Mass with them at home, she suggested, to prepare them for the real thing and take them when they are a couple years older.

I beg to differ.

Source

Yesterday, on his feast day, St Joseph the worker, our little Joseph and I attended our first weekday Mass at our parish in a long time. Our priest has been away for a few weeks on vacation and he just came home on the weekend. 

Joseph loves going to Mass! When I ask him if he wants to go to Mass, he immediately responds, "Fa? Ma? Jesus?" He's asking if we will see Father Tuyen, Mama Mary, and Jesus. And when I respond, "Yes" he is overjoyed.

Yesterday, Joseph sat through Mass so quietly, eating his Cheerios and watching Father. As usual, he was hyper-attentive as Father prepared the altar. After the Our Father, Joseph was standing on the kneeler beside me, watching Father again. I looked down to see him with outstretched arms, looking intently at his hands to see if he had it right. Then, as Father brought his hands together, Joseph imitated his action and I realized he was trying to imitate every move of his beloved priest. After the Agnus Dei, Father knelt behind the altar for a brief moment and Joseph struggled to kneel down on his kneeler. He had to come up quickly again to check if Father had risen yet.

By the end of Mass, Joseph was getting antsy. He was standing just outside out pew waiting for me to give him the word so he could go see St Joseph. Despite his obvious distraction, he quickly came to attention as Father was giving the final blessing and touched his head, saying "Fa" (his version of the Sign of the Cross).

After witnessing our little boy's faith, I was overjoyed at his love for Jesus and His Holy Mass. We have decided to keep on the lookout for good items to play Mass with at home.

I don't think you could say our little Joseph didn't "get anything" out of Mass. And maybe someday he'll truly be in persona Christi. I dare say, many future priests learned their love for the Mass and priesthood in just such a way -- and, of course, by playing Mass.

It Feels Like Christmas

Today is the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker. It is, without a doubt, a second Christmas for Catholics. There's something about praying to St. Joseph that really takes hold of most devout Catholics. I would even go so far as to suggest that here in Canada, because of St. Joseph's title as our Patron, and because of the Oratory in Montreal and the faith of St. Andre, devotion to St. Joseph is all the stronger.

So why is this day like Christmas? Because so many Catholics, who ask with great faith, receive an abundance of spiritual, material, and physical assistance. Some people sell their homes. Others get a tip on a new job. Some get an assurance from their parish priest that the more prayerful Saturday night Masses will remain (thank you St. Joseph!). All who ask in faith are granted peace and strength as they carry on through the difficulties of life. It feels like Christmas! So many divine gifts and favours are granted through the all important foster-father of Jesus... if we ask in faith. We should sing Away in a Manger today! And mayber throw in a few Alleluias for the Easter season...

St. Andre used to have those with needs pray to St. Joseph. He would also have them do devout practices, such as using special oil burned in front of a St. Joseph statue, or keeping a St. Joseph card in their pocket. The point was not so much the action or devotion, but the faith required to make such an action. St. Andre teaches that faith is needed when praying to St. Joseph. If there is faith, St. Joseph will answer the prayer (in the best way God sees fit). It's that simple. Why? Because Jesus obeyed St. Joseph while on earth, and Jesus still listens to St. Joseph while in heaven. Simple logic. So simple, but so essential for all Catholics.

So pray to St. Joseph today. Pray to him always. And if you don't know how to pray, St. Theresa of Avila teaches that we are to ask St. Joseph to teach us to pray. In short, the key to get to Jesus, through Mary, is to trust in Joseph.

Ite ad Joseph.


Merry Christmas!