I just returned from a beautiful weekend retreat experience at our province’s retreat center in Hankinson. We had talks, small group sessions, Mass, adoration, confession, and even “Songs & S’more Talk” (a delightful late evening campfire).
This was my first time leading a retreat, so it was definitely a learning experience. Despite my burden of responsibility for the endeavor, I was able to thoroughly enjoy the women’s retreat, sponsored by our local Catholic Women’s group. It was truly a grace-filled weekend for myself and, from what was shared, the other ladies as well. The above mentioned word grace reminds me of the song that has especially stuck with me from the weekend. It is based on St. Ignatius’ prayer: “Take Lord, Receive.” The phrase that has been speaking to me is “Your love and your grace are enough for me.” It has repeated in my brain long after we sang it together prior to one of the weekend talks. As I face the days and challenges that lay ahead, I’ll rely on this love and this grace, which really are with us constantly and is ours for the asking. I surely need it!
0 Comments
This morning, my alarm woke me up at about five minutes to seven. I hopped out of bed, and rushed to get out the door as quickly as possible to make it to church for the 7:15 Mass.
This was far from my normal morning routine but the fact is that I’d slept less than two hours in the last 24, having worked the night shift until 5 a.m. Sr. Elaine had offered the day before that she could watch the desk for me in the morning (while I went to Mass) because she would be attending Mass in the evening. I stopped over quickly at St. Anne’s, however, to confirm that this was still the plan. As I headed for the door, to go back out into the pouring rain, I mentioned to her that I would be walking rather than biking. I did not trust myself to operate a vehicle (be it only a bike). “It’s like I’d been drinking,” I told her, as we exchanged chuckles. (Maybe I should have staggered or zigzagged out of the lobby to prove the point.) The rain had started already the evening before. After doing some reading and prayers in chapel, I had intended to go back to the convent. I was tired, and wouldn’t mind an early night. However, when I noticed the intense lightning, I was concerned. I didn’t care to get struck so I stayed indoors to safely wait out the storm. During that time, our evening receptionist received a phone call from one of the night workers; she was having car trouble and wouldn’t be able to make it in. No one else was available to fill her place, so I ended up working the shift. I must say, I halfway enjoyed the night. It was quiet, peaceful, and everybody got along beautifully. If it weren’t for the strange feeling coming from sleep deprivation, I could see how a person could really like this not-so-popular shift. Sometimes people have made derogatory remarks about the night staff, insinuating that they don’t do a good job, etc. However, having worked with our “night owls” numerous times, I have come to have a great respect and appreciation for what they do. They have been kind to me and put up with my lack of knowledge and numerous questions; For this I am grateful. I will be grateful, too, later today, for the opportunity to get a bit more sleep. Then, this funny, hazy feeling should leave me, my thinking should be more sharp, and no one should get the impression that I’ve had “a few too many.” (Please pardon any errors: This was written Saturday morning on very little sleep.) Many hands…
There are two time-tried expressions which would counsel us in opposing directions: “Too many hands spoil the broth” or “Many hands make light work.” I can see the veracity of both, but the latter one was more true for me today. On the grounds of our provincial house in Hankinson, ND, there are concord grape vines, which have an interesting history of their own. This year, it seems, there was an abundant crop. Thus it was that we were offered some. The Sister who was going to bring them when she came ended up not being able to make it here to Grand Forks so I wasn’t sure if we’d end up with them or not. Friday afternoon, however, a call came. A woman on staff there was coming up to visit family. She would be bringing the grapes. This solidified my weekend plans. Accompanying the residents to the Potato Bowl parade would probably not fit neatly into my schedule! (This really didn’t bother me, though.) Knowing the morrow would be packed with plenty of work, I went to bed a little early Friday night, setting my alarm for about 4:20 a.m. In the morning, I made a point to make my first stop be the chapel, because I did not know if there would be any time later in the day. Well before 6, though, I was in the activity room kitchen, washing grapes. I had found and printed a recipe for grape jam the day before. Hopefully, I would get a lot done before walking over to St. Michael’s Church. After returning from Mass, I grabbed something quick for breakfast and returned to the activity room, resuming my task of washing and removing the stems from the grapes. There were five lugs, so I had plenty of work still waiting for me! However, after a bit, Sr. Elaine showed up. She began helping me. I knew she had plenty of other work to do so I hated to see her spend too much time in there. She wasn’t easily dismissed, though, and devoted several hours to cleaning grapes. Sr. Rebecca was not too far behind her. She, too, came and helped with the overwhelming quantity of grapes. This left me to devote more time to making jam; not that I’m the expert. After some trial and error and recipe modifications, we have 20 jars of grape jam (or syrup, depending on how well it sets), and many more to come. By 3:30 p.m., when I quit to come for my shift at the reception desk, we had all the grapes de-stemmed. Monday, I’ll have to wash the grapes and finishing cutting the crab apples, but at least a lot of the work is behind us. Someone gave us some little crab apples to put in with the next batch (This is supposed to be a good addition, even helping the grapes to gel.) ~ ~ ~ I am very grateful for the help from my Sisters today. Though I wouldn’t call the job “light work,” many hands really do help!!! This morning, I was of no use as far as liturgical music was concerned; I couldn’t sing. I tried a little for the opening hymn, but by the time we got to the Gloria, I had to give up. (Seasonal allergies have deprived me of any singing ability I might normally have had. I don’t think I have a cold – I feel okay, but there is a certain unusual huskiness to my voice at present.)
I felt kind of awkward, like a fish out of water. Before Mass, I had arranged with Sr. Elaine that she play the refrain for the responsorial psalm on the organ and help sing it since I could not promise any assistance from my aggravated vocal chords. It was kind disappointing to have limited music at Sunday Mass, but what could I do? Nothing!! My temporary experience of being voiceless, for some reason, reminded me of a school assignment I had back in my early teens. We were told to write a letter to one of our legislators, sharing our views on a topic of our own choosing. We did not, necessarily have to mail the letter, butt he project was to write one, anyway. Within the month of having turned in this assignment, I received written response from the government official to whom I had addressed the letter. I had NOT mailed my letter, so much teacher must have done so herself! Boy, was I surprised! I had expressed my views about the injustice of abortion. I had explained that unborn children cannot speak up for themselves so I would attempt to speak for them. I still remember my dad advising my on the correct wording to use. For some reason, this experience of speaking on behalf of “the voiceless,” has stayed with me all these years. As I reflected a bit on this today, I realized that there are many people in our world who are, in their own way, voiceless. Even our own residents at St. Anne’s and many other elderly may fall into this category. This experience of being “voiceless” serves as a reminder to me. When the occasion arises, I might be called to “speak up” for those who cannot “speak for themselves,” as I mentioned in a school project letter over twenty years ago. When I woke up this morning, I knew we’d probably be husking some corn (if yesterday’s rain hadn’t prevented it from being harvested), but I really didn’t fully grasp what the day would hold.
When I came to the front desk to give our receptionist a break she told me, “Oh, by the way, someone brought in some plums.” A bag of plums awaited me (joyful the thought), but I wouldn’t even think of tackling them until the corn had all been shucked. By early afternoon, though, 696 ears of corn had been cleaned and bagged, thanks to a great team of staff, volunteers and residents. These, along with the 1,200 we processed this past Friday, ought to provide plenty of corn for the year. The freezers we use for corn are FULL!! So, when the corn was pretty much under control, I decided I might as well get to work on the plums. I had thought I would use cheese cloth after first cooking up the plums, but changed my mind. Instead, I cut the eight cups worth of plums open and took out the pits, also removing any spots/blemishes. I found a recipe which called for using this method and, about an hour or so later, had several small jars of plum (freezer) jam setting on the table in our Activity Room kitchenette. Although our freezers are more crowded after today’s corn, I hope we can find room for these jars without too much trouble. |
AuthorSr. Christina M. Neumann Archives
December 2019
|