Daniel has been being a true two year old for the past few weekss. From trying to pour his own milk (thank goodness the jug was almost empty!) to drawing in school books, he has found one hundred and one ways to get into things. Here is one of his latest tricks:
Am I in trouble?
After waking up many times during the night, Dominic surprised Mom with something pokey in his gums as he chewed on her fingers. It was his first tooth, beating the family’s teething record by about month and a half!
It is a wonderful privelage to have the stories and examples of the saints to help and encourage us in our path to heaven. I stand in awe of the courage of the martyrs of the early Church, and the good works of Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta in India are inspiring. When I read the writings of many of my favorite saints, including Saint Faustina and Teresa of Avila, I am amazed at how close they were to Our Lord. Yet sometimes the saints and their greatness are intimidating, and I feel like throwing up my hands in hopelessness. How can I even hope to be like them?
St. Therese captured this sentiment perfectly when she said, “When I have compared myself with the saints, I have always found that there is the same difference between the saints and me as there is between a mountain whose summit is lost in the clouds and a humble grain of sand trodden underfoot by passers-by.”
But it was in this smallness that Therese found her path to greatness. She writes, “In spite of my littleness, I can aim at being a saint. It is impossible for me to grow bigger, so I put up with myself as I am, with all my countless faults. I was far too small to climb the steep stairs of perfection. So I sought in holy Scripture some idea of what this life I wanted would be, and I read these words: “Whosoever is a little one, come to me.” It is your arms, Jesus, that are the lift to carry me to heaven. And so there is no need for me to grow up: I must stay little and become less and less.”
” I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would lose its springtide beauty, and the fields would no longer be enamelled with lovely hues.
“So it is in the world of souls, Our Lord’s living garden. He has been pleased to create great Saints who may be compared to the lily and the rose, but He has also created lesser ones, who must be content to be daisies or simple violets, nestling at His Feet to delight his eyes when He deigns to look down on them. The happier they are to be as He wills, the more perfect they are. I understood this also, that God’s Love is made manifest as well in a simple soul which does not resist His grace as it does through the greatest. In fact, the characteristic of love being self-abasement, if all souls resembled the holy Doctors who have illuminated the Church, it seems that God in coming to them would not stoop low enough. But He has created the little children, who know nothing and can but utter feeble cries and it is to their hearts that He deigns to stoop. These are the field flowers whose simplicity charms Him; and by His condescension to them Our Saviour shows His infinite greatness.”
A few weeks ago I began reading St. Therese’s autobiography for the third time, and the beauty of her writing struck me afresh. The words posses simplicity and earnestness, and I come away from reading them feeling encouraged and motivated. I see even such little things such as sweeping the floor and changing diapers in a new light, for as Therese says, “Our Lord does not look so much at the greatness of our actions, nor even at their difficulty, but at the love with which we do them.”
Last weekend, Dad decided we should take advantage of the beautiful weather (which will end to quickly) and take a motorcycle ride to a hilly forested area with the rest of the family following behind in the van. It was lovely, with the trees beginning to turn colors, and the whole family enjoyed it immensely. I shot these pictures:
After watching me working on my extension for ballet, Daniel decided he must join in the fun. He was adorable striking poses in his brand new pajamas.
My Dad found this rope laying exactly in this position behind the organ the other night:
Dad, Landon and I are the only ones in the house who would know this musical symbol, and neither of us arranged the rope this way. It's almost a perfect treble clef.
Last year I let the weeds take over the garden. This year, however, I’ve been keeping on top of the weeds (with help from Johnathan, Alexander, and Joseph), and my perennial garden is really thriving. This has drawn a multitude of butterflies to our yard, and species I had never even seen in our yard, such as tiger swallowtails, now visit us daily. Today I was also fortunate enough to see a viceroy on the aptly named butterfly bush, a kind of butterfly I didn’t even know lived in South Dakota. It was kind enough to stay around long enough for me to run inside and get my camera, and let me get really close to it.
God gave the Viceroys a very effective disguise, and they look like the poisonous monarch to fool birds. The only way to tell them apart is by the line the viceroy has on the hindwings, which the monarch lacks.
Tiger swallowtails are very easy to catch, and I caught this one with only my hands! I brought it inside to show Mom and the boys, then let it go again outside.
Coneflowers attract not only butterflies, but hungry goldfinches as well!
Daniel is very fond of ‘helping’ me in the garden. He loves to tag along by my side, carrying a shovel along with him, blissfuly happy to be doing exactly what I am doing.
He will point to any plant he sees and ask, “Weed?” If I tell him he is correct, he will rip as many leaves off as he can with a disgusted face:
Sometimes he is lucky and pulls out the root as well. Other times he gets carried away-
-and doesn’t ask whether his prey is a weed or not. Here he is repentant for pulling a balloon flower bloom.
If I tell him the plant is a flower, he will bend down to smell it.
After a family reunion in Iowa last week, we visited the Grotto of the Redemption in West Bend Iowa, which is the largest man-made grotto in the world. It was lovely.
Joseph and his patron, St. Joseph
Mary in the home.
Aside from the beautiful stones and statues, the grotto also has a family of swans and corn to feed them.
