Arise, make haste, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come.
For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning has come: The voice of the turtle is found in our land: The fig tree hath put forth her green figs: the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my dove, my beautiful one, and come! ~ from Canticle of Canticles He is Risen, Alleluia! We have happily arrived at the great Feast of Easter after the long and penitential season of Lent, glorying anew in the reality of our salvation through the Lord's magnificent sacrifice. Lent, the spare time of going without, of giving things up, of taking on more and growing through prayer and good works in humility and virtue is - ideally - a fruitful time not only since it draws us closer in our weakness to our Maker, but since it culminates, the great preparation that it is, in the glory of Christ's Resurrection. Today a child asked, "Do you think today was a good day?" This came after a long and glorious Easter Sunday. After a momentary thought, we decided that Easter Sunday is good no matter what - it must be, and if it seems not so in some way that must be because of human error. But it was a very good day - bursting with life and the enjoyment of good things and of course revolving around the beautiful Mass that extols and celebrates most fully the Risen Lord, the pinnacle facet of our faith. As well, nature sings the song of new life, with spring springing all around in all the creaturely ways - the fields and trees are green with budding life and flowers sing with the birds and humming bees. Here on Holy Saturday, despite the somber nature of the day, the sky was a beautiful and nearly piercing windswept blue, clean and clear and bright and making the perfect backdrop for wheeling martins and the high swaying branches of green-topped trees. The spring climate stands in contrast to the weeks building up to such Easter joy - winter felt long and cold and heightened the depravity of the penitential season - as it should be (a gift and a help, indeed) - and the last gathering before Lent was on a stormy day that tested the hearts of all of us. Our Scottish themed gathering in February (in honor of Robbie Burns) was at once a rain-out and a resounding success! Our family had begun the weekend by setting up a little canopy in our small historic town's square by the old courthouse and, with a Scottish flag hanging and our crew all decked in kilts, we regaled whoever was interested with a round of Scottish folk songs and poetry recitations. We didn't have our winning oldest children with us, but we sang and played with gusto - and one of our younger sons entertained with the diablo, a spinning wheel that is tossed on a string between two sticks held in hand and which keeps the wheel spinning (or tossing high, as the case may be). It was freezing cold and we had a great time and we earned our first dollar, placed in the open banjo case by a passing child. The next day, the weather promised to be terrible and it was, but we didn't cancel the gathering at the farm and in the end the storm created a passel of brave souls of good will who bonded with us in the cold and rain to pray and eat and toss cabers and stones in the rainy field, and then bustle into the house to gather around the fire and sing songs. It was a very good time - and in its way related to how Easter must always be good no matter what, because it is. Even when our second goat delivered her babies - she had two little bucklings - and we lost one, it was a good day. We cherished the life of a helpless little creature for thirty-six hours, doing everything we could to try to help it survive, and then had to accept that it just wasn't meant long for this world. The tiny thing wasn't a person, but it gave us an up close, intimate glimpse at God's handiwork, and it was beautiful and worth the pain of our temporarily upended little existence for that short while. We carried that experience in our hearts through Lent and continued to see God's handiwork in a new way through the ups and downs of our days, learning to give and learning to be humble and learning, most importantly, that life is short so why not do our best? Now, though, we have two adorable bounding-growing baby goats and are beginning to try to learn how to milk their mothers (more on that another time...it is a patient and ridiculous and seemingly fruitless - though indeed in the most important ways most fruitful - labor). And, as said, the world is springing all around, we have much good work to put our hands to, and it is difficult not to simply feel hopeful. And Easter is finally arrived, and it is good, and we are filled with abundant joy and hope for certain since He is Risen, Alleluia!
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Fatima FarmOn this little homestead our family aspires to work the land and hand on the Catholic Tradition, walking in wonder and learning to live by the fruits of our labor, in honor of Our Lady of Fatima, who guides us to Him. Archives
October 2024
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