The first time I used the scanner here at Cabrini I nearly died laughing. When you hit the "start" button the machine says, "starting scan," and then, "please wait a while."
I was like, "A while?! What the heck does that mean?" I imagined myself sitting before the ol' girl on an ancient, creaky rocking chair, knitting some mittens and growing old while I waited for the scanner to boot up.
"Please wait a while." The story of my life.
During orientation, Colleen led us in a prayer that really spoke to me. In a way, it forced me to see my life through a lens other than the lens of time. In that way, it has been a great source of comfort to me in troubling times; times of great helplessness, frustration, or disappointment. It's a lot easier to find peace in your life when you aren't caught up in time; when you don't see your life as a string of successes or failures. The prayer went like this:
As children bring their broken toys
With tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,
Because he was my friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him,
In peace, to work alone;
I hung around and tried to help,
With ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back and cried,
"How can you be so slow?!"
"My child," He said,
"What could I do?
You never did let go."
-Lauretta P. Burns
It's uncanny how many times and in how many different ways this prayer has resonated with me since orientation. Since then, I have experienced my first Kairos retreat. The word Kairos itself means "God's Time." I learned during my Kairos retreat that I need to, "Let Go, Let God." It is difficult to accept that "our time" is not "God's time." He always seems to work slower or to have a different plan than we have for ourselves. Ultimately, though, His work is infinitely more perfect and more beautiful than ours. Why shouldn't we try and live in His time?
But oh how difficult it is to Let Go.
Then there was what I call, "All that hand imagery." Imagine that you are clutching tightly, fiercely onto something. It could be anything, but imagine that it is something you love. Something you love so much that you are afraid of it being taken from you. It could be a possession, a person, an animal.... How do you feel? How does that which you love so obsessively feel? If I cling too passionately to my family members, for example, both they and I will suffer together. I will fear, forever, the prospect of their leaving me. I will become anxious when they threaten to love someone more than they love me. I will be so preoccupied by them that I will not be able to embrace the rest of the world around me. And how would they whom I love respond? They will be forced to deal with my unhealthy attachment. My fears, my anxieties- they will no longer be mine alone.
Now imagine that you are able to hold onto what is most dear to you, but you hold on with open hands instead. ... How do you feel? How does that which you love feel? If I could hold on to my family without anxiety or fear, if I could be at peace with the fact that they may one day leave me, then how much more joy would I find in the world? I would still be able to love deeply those who are dearest to me, but I would also be able to let them go if that was the will of God. And I would be at peace. It takes much less energy to relax your hand than to ball up a fist.
When Mother Cabrini's spiritual director was at a loss of what to tell her, she would simply say, "Give it up to God." In other words, take your fears, your anxieties, your frustrations and disappointments and give them to the one person who knows exactly what to do with them.
We are not the masters of anything- God is. I wish I could give my struggles to God more easily, as Mother Cabrini did. I wish it was easier to accept that it is God's Time that will win out, not mine. I wish I really understood that it is God's Plan that's important, not mine.
It seems that only on those days at Cabrini when I am tired, frustrated, or upset that things aren't going my way that I need to use the scanner. HOW convenient that it takes 45 minutes to warm up. I think it's trying to remind me that I just need to "wait a while"- that God has a plan for me, but that I have to sit down, relax, and chill out while He is working on it.
I continue to struggle, but I am trying to Let Go, and Let God. I am trying to give Him my brokenness to mend. I am trying to love with open hands. And I'm trying to trust in God's Time.
It's hard, but I know it's worth the effort. Pray for me!
The first time I cried at work, I was 17 years old. It was a summer job, and nothin' to spit on. With forty hours a week, my own desk, and a 9 dollar salary, I was the richest kid on the block and I never once came home smelling like pizza or deli meat. I thought I was lucky.
By the end of the summer I was applying for a minimum wage job at Wendy's.
On the day in question- that is, the day that I cried- I was asked to do something very illegal. Simple directions were given to me and I barely gave them a thought as I instantly set to work ticking off little square boxes on some paperwork. I guess I just didn't anticipate that an adult would ask me to do something so morally wrong.
The magnitude of what I was doing didn't hit me for a while. I think I had made it through 30 documents before it hit me. "Is this right?" I wondered. It took no time at all for me to conclude that it wasn't. I was committing forgery by altering paperwork that was signed by someone else.
If I had worked for a dentist or a school district, a lawyer's office or a bank I think I might have been less upset. But I didn't. I worked in an office for a company who provided medical care for seniors. Or should I say, provides- the business still operates today, much to my chagrin.
Ah, but I haven't told you the worst part! Not only was I asked to tick off little boxestoindicate that our clients were being given the care they were promised and deserved when they were not, but I had to tell FIVE staff members about my reservations before one of them came to my rescue. First, naturally, I addressed the woman who gave me the assignment. "Oh, just do it," she said, "No one will care." Mind you, this woman was a nurse.
The second woman I addressed was also a nurse. She said that the aides who cared for the seniors simply forgot to check off those boxes- If I filled out the forms for them, it wouldn't be lying.I guess there were no lawyers in that office. Or saints.
And so on and so on, until I began to cry. At 17 years old, I still had that desire young kids have to please their superiors; I was given the job, and I wanted to do it, but crying and adamantly refusing to continue was better than participating in what was clearly illegal, dishonest, lazy, and insensitive to the fact that the lives of already very fragile people were involved.
As my tear ducts began to erupt the manager noticed me and stepped in to save me.
....................
Today, I cried at work.
It was a very different sort of cry this time. I didn't cry because the "grownups" let me down. I didn't cry because I realized the failings of our institutions and systems. I didn't cry because there was no one to speak for those without a voice. I didn't cry because human lives weren't being treated with dignity, care, or respect. And I didn't cry because I realized how easy it is to become the victim of a clerical "error"...
That day, I experienced how backwards human actions can be- how damaging. And the idea that these things all happen on a grander scale- that they hurt not just us but maybe hundreds, thousands, or millions. That's what really makes me cry- the reality that the world is made up of people, that people are flawed, and that we let one another fall left and right.
But there's also hope.
Today I cried because I watched and listened as a chapel full of 17 years olds asked, "Is this right?" Together, they cried out "NO!" with passion and certainty. I felt alone in that office that day 5 years ago, but I know that I'm not the only one who has experienced a harsh reality like that. I'm not so naive, either, as to believe that I have never been on the other side of that fence as well, but I realized today just how many truly good people are out there. People who will do what they know is right. People who will say something.
Of course, I know that all those kids aren't perfect- one of them might be cheating on a math test right now as we speak. However, what was important to me was that they sought one another. They were committed to finding like-minded individuals who acknowledge the world's problems, humanity's problems, and do their best not to let one another fall.
The bad people in the world are the ones you hear about. They get all the press, all the attention, and (rightly so) all the just anger. It's easy to forget good deeds, and sadly, it's sometimes easy to forget good people.
I regret that I need to constantly reminded myself that there is a great deal of good in the world, but I'm also blessed to be in a place where that is so easy for me to do. At this retreat center there are so many young people with so much energy. So much enthusiasm and joy. I look and them, sometimes, and truly think they're going to take over the world and build a kingdom of love, hugs, and chocolate milk.
The first time I cried at work, I cried because I realized how harsh the world is. This time 'round, I cried because I realized that it's not. Not always.
The 17 year olds weren't literally standing around in a circle, holding hands, singing Kumbayah and screaming, "No!" in the face of injustice, but they didn't have to. Everything about their words and deeds spoke to Christ's love for humanity, and in that spirit I knew that these kids were going to be the ones to step up or step in to protect human holiness. And if they fall, I pray that they'll be there to catch one another and start afresh.
I find so much joy and hope and peace, even, at this retreat center. The place is actually quite boring but for all the beautiful people who come through here with lessons teach me. Not all of them are Christians, but the word of God is written on all their hearts. It's so easy to find Him here. I can't believe anyone wouldn't want to live among these people- to be a member of His Church.
I was telling someone this week thatthe people who get you through the roughest parts of your life are often the ones you develop the deepest love for. I had been thinking about the darker parts of my life and realized that, during those times, I never got what I wanted but I was always given what I needed. There was always someone to help me make it through the day-to-day stuff, even when I barely noticed their presence. It seems, though, that when the skies clear and circumstances improve, you suddenly find the eyes to see the people who were standing beside you all along.
It's easy to miss the little things- to believe, mistakenly, that we're not being noticed, loved, or comforted. We can only hope to never take those little things, those little gifts, and those special people for granted. It's not an easy thing to do.
I was thinking about the people I left behind in Maryland, and New York before that. I am incredibly blessed that I am free to go and to do whatever I want whenever I want; the biggest struggle in my life seems to be the TYRANNY OF FREEDOM ... and that isn't too bad! But I miss my family and friends when I slow down and give myself a moment to reflect on what is most important to me. It's always a lot harder than I think it'll be to leave them behind.
This is for all my friends who gush over cats.
I am blessed, not only with freedom, but also with the gift of being able to love very easily. While I struggle sometimes, loving others is something that comes very naturally to me. I love loving people- it's the only thing that makes any sense to me sometimes.
For that reason, traveling and moving about has always suited me pretty well. I made two new families while in Europe- one in Denmark, one in Ireland, and nothing gave me more joy than to make their friends and neighbors my own. With Cabrini Mission Corps, I now have over 300 new family members! The Cabrini Sisters are on 6 continents and in 16 different countries. The world is getting bigger, but I am still only one person. While I am having an unbelievable time running around and meeting new people and Sisters, I could never forget who I am or where I came from. Or who loved me first.
Now I know that I went a little overboard here with the collages, but I wanted to make them so that when I'm being silly and forget how much God loves me, I will have a place to look and remind myself of just how many people have come into my life to lend me strength when I was feeling weak. Now, be advised that some seriously KEY people are missing from here- my professors, my doctors, some of my best friends from childhood, ... my mom (sorry, mom!)- there were phases of my life when I was camera happy, and phases of my life where I looked like I didn't quite fit into my nose and therefore had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be photographed. Today I am grateful to have had all of these beautiful people in my life. They all contributed a little part of themselves, and made me who I am today.
I carry them with me, always. I will love them, always.
I want to thank you, Gracious Lord,
for the good friends you give me;
they are for me a priceless bounty.
Thanks to them, friendship is neither an abstraction,
nor a distant, almost impossible, dream.
I owe to your providence, Lord,
the possibility of counting on
the constant help of friends.
Between me and them you have formed a solid bridge,
which can withstand all threats of destruction.
The happiness with which you have blessed us
enables us to enrich one another.
Lord, there was something astonishing,
almost mysterious,
in the way I met my friends;
it was always outside the expected pattern.
But you alone know the reasons
that drew us closer together.
This surprise and joy are refreshing,
and I experience them anew
at every step of my life.
I promise to do everything in my power
to deserve this precious gift
that you have reserved for me.
I ask you, Gracious Lord, to keep them safe in your hands,
for they are yours above all.
Amen.
I've been on mission for two and a half months now, and I STILL hardly believe it. Everything has happened so fast from the moment I graduated, and I can barely make any sense of the chain of events. But as Sister Grace likes to say, "God writes straight with crooked lines."
I don't know where I'm going or how I came to have such an intimate connection to Mother Cabrini and her Sisters, but I know that this precious time I have with the Cabrini community is going to be of inestimable value to me personally and spiritually. I have already learned so much about myself and God from the Sisters and from my ministry at the retreat center.
Thank you Mother Cabrini for guiding me along this journey and for lending me your sisters, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, on whom I draw such strength and comfort. I don't what the future has in store for me, but I know you'll be there to guide me with great gentleness and love.
Thank you, Mother Cabrini.
Blessings,
Gina
"To you, my sisters, may
Jesus be with you and with gentle peace draw you to his heart and
always keep you there with His divine strength." -Mother Cabrini
If I had the courage to tell you, and I thought there was a possibility of making myself rightly understood, I'd tell you that:
You are a gift from God to the world. And to me, in particular. You were made, knit together, before time was time. With Love. With Purpose.
You are broken, but God works through your brokenness to heal others. And through the brokenness of others to heal you.We find grace and wisdom and discover our own belovedness in our solidarity.
You are beautiful. Even in your brokenness you are whole. You are not your flaws. You are not what you do, or what you have, or what you know, or what other people say about you. You are a child of God, and as such are uniquely, wonderfully beautiful.
And you're never alone.
Much Love,
Gina
______________________________
"Therefore that I might not
become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of
Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I
begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me,
"My Grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."
I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the
power of Christ may dwell within me." 2 Cor 12:7-9
A theme that keeps cropping up for me is, "It is what it is, it is what you make it." A girl I met on my orientation liked that line a lot, and considered it her mantra, I suppose.
We had a group of 60 older women here last week. They were an interesting bunch. The kissy, tree-hugger types. "Druids" some of them called themselves. They weren't Catholic- in fact, some of them hid their Bibles in their closets, not being able to suffer its presence. Each of them seemed to be a different kind of quirky, but the one thing they all had in common was that they wanted coffee at 4 in the morning. I was willing to compromise with the hour, and at 5 o'clock the other day, I began making pots of coffee. By 8:30 I had easily made 18 pots and restocked the creamer 6 times.They consumed about as fast as I produced.
It is what it is.
Some days I'm going to be here sweeping, doing dishes, directing parking lot traffic, re-filling ketchup bottles, and making enough coffee to fill a swimming pool. I sometimes feel like it's a waste of my talents and that it snuffs out the excitement and energy I have for projects that right now only exist in theory, but... it is what it is. It has to be done.
It's a lot harder to do all things for the greater glory of God than I imagined. The monotony of making coffee... I suppose someone with more discipline could turn it into a prayerful meditation, or an exercise in thanksgiving- "Lord, thank you for this healthy body, without which I may not be able to repeatedly pour cup after steaming cup of liquid caffeine and without which I would not be able to open and close, open and close, open and close the necessary cabinets that house the creamer and sugar packets." Right now, though, all I have workin' for me is obedience. I do it because I am told to do it. In that way, I suppose, I am loving God.
I sometimes struggle to find love and joy in my day-to-day activities, but the possibility of deepening my relationship with God keeps me going. In these somewhat boring, monotonous, and menial tasks, I am being given a unique opportunity to grow in patience, humility, gentleness, and positivity. I yearn constantly for the ability to find God in all things. If, by the end of the year, I can feel love radiating from that coffee pot I so fervently avoid, I will consider my time here a great success.
I thank God for Colleen very often. She seems to possess a lot of those attitudes that I hope to adopt. She is a lot better at saying and doing only those things that bring her joy- that are life giving. When Colleen and I have a long day and I think we're both about to go blow off some steam by running our mouths, she proves me wrong. I end up pouring out my frustrations and incredulities as she listens. And then I feel bad for having made her struggles with serenity even harder. I can tell she shares similar worries, but she prefers to concentrate only on the good. The possibility of growth that each struggle affords us. The greater purpose of our challenges.
I am trying to be more like that. I already feel that I have had a small
amount of success, but I cannot settle for where I am now. Sr. Grace
once said to me, "God loves us just the way we are, but because He loves
us, He will not allow us to stay the way we are." I think of
those words often. May Colleen and I and all of you pray for the Grace
to find God where our hearts, minds, and bodies struggle the most to
find and take comfort in HIM.
Blessings,
Gina
Psalm 28:7
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.
My director asked Colleen and I to represent Cabrini Mission Corps at a series of service fairs in the North Midwest. On Monday we went to DePaul here in Chicago. Those kids had absolutely no idea that there was a service fair going on, and those that approached us were only interested in our basket of candy. It's all about Twix bars at DePaul.
Next we drove up to Kenosha, Wisconsin, and stayed overnight with a former missioner, Laura. Laura was a great tour guide of the area- she took us to a cheese CASTLE, at which I purchased cheese curds (and where I, in fact, learned what a cheese curd was) that squeek when you eat them, some "chocolate cheese fudge," and some famous Wisconsin rootbeer. Turns out, the "cheese fudge" is really just fudge, but instead of being made with milk it's made with cheese, which makes it a LOT creamier. .... mmm... We ended our time in Kenosha with a quick stop at a famous frozen custard joint.
Then we went to see lake Michigan from the Wisconsin side before we headed over to Milwaukee and Marquette University.
I didn't see any cows in Wisconsin, but I DID see a hell of a lot of 'em in Indiana, where we went next. We went over to St. Mary's College and then the University of Notre Dame. Those kids were a lot more fun to talk to. The St. Mary's and Notre Dame students were much more prepared and interested in service than the kids from DePaul or Marquette. Some had even heard of Mother Cabrini! WIN!
Colleen taught me how to use cruise control- I've never been happier. :D
The Notre Dame fair had more than 70 organizations represented. Our table was set up along Francis Corps and the Good Shepherd Volunteers. The greatest thing about the little service fair "tour" was that a lot of the same people from the other volunteer programs came to all of them. We made good friends with a Notre Dame alumna, Amy of the Christian Appalachian Project, who we got to hang out with during each of the fairs, and when Notre Dame's was over she took us over to Legends with a few others, including Amanda from the Good Shepherd Volunteers who was at my orientation, and we shared a meal and some drinks. Snake Bite- Guinness and Apple Cider. :D
Snake Bite- Apple cider and Guinness. An insult to the Irish? Not if the Fighting Irish did it first.
Left to Right: Laura, Colleen, Me, Amanda from Good Shepherd and Amy, resident ND alumna from the Christian Appalachian Project.
I made sure not to go nuts at Notre Dame. I scoped out the Theology section of the library- was happy to see that multiple copies of my favorite texts were in stock and then visited the lakes, the Basilica, and the grotto before we peaced out.
The Theology section. It gets a floor and a half. :D
Colleen: Have you ever seen "Stigmata?"
I, not realizing she was referring to a movie, could only repeat her question: Have I SEENSTIGMATA?!??!"
Colleen started cracking up while I was still pondering whether or not it was possible that she may have encountered a living saint in possession of Christ's wounds. My face must have been priceless.
Friar Rick was standing in the "domestic site" area of the service fair, wearing a name tag that said "Bonaventure University," which I know to be located in New York somewhere.
Me: So where are you located?
Friar Rick: Francis Corps is in Toronto.
Me: ::quizzical look::
Friar Rick: Do you know where Toronto is?
Me: No.
Friar Rick: ..... it's in Canada.
Me: Oh, the REAL Toronto! ... I thought this was one of those, "No, not Paris France, Paris New York" situations. .. I'm so confused.
One girl comes up to us and we start talking about Cabrini. She asks what the time commitment is.
Me: For domestic service we use the calendar year.
Colleen: You mean SCHOOL year?
Me: .... oh! Yes! Yes! School year. September through June, September through June!!!
Laura: You're the first legitimate man that's come to our table!
Colleen: Legitimate??!?!
Here is the link to a couple of videos I have made for the retreat center. The first is a mashup of the Missionary Sisters saying thank you to Noreen, our director, and the rest of the Cabrini staff after they stayed a week for their annual retreat. The second is a slideshow I made, mostly of pictures of the CMC missioners, for the volunteer fairs we are going to be going to next week. I like the slideshow better, even though when I converted it to youtube it got a little messed up. Monday we'll be in DePaul, Tuesday we're going to Marquette and Wednesday to St. Mary's and the University of Notre Dame. I'm gonna take MAD pictures of touchdown Jesus. Ha ha! I can't wait to check out that library. And I've never been to Wisconsin or Indiana, so I'm super excited, as always. :D Enjoy!
During orientation we were supposed to have a talent show on the last night, but it got canceled because we high-tailed it off of Staten Island before Irene hit. However, our director did manage to capture this video of us practicing. It's in its early stages- we don't know all the steps, and we don't know all the words. The line we fumble over most is, "Sing now of David's Son, our neighbor and brother. In all of Galilee was never another."
...and it was inspired by Stephen Colbert's rendition, which was 100x's more fabulous. And you should DEFINITELY watch. It's hysterical. It reminds me of John Cleese's (or Basil Fawlty's) "funny walk." lol.
Labor Day was my one week anniversary here in Chicagoland! The holiday weekend started off with Colleen and I on a perpetual high, as we were excited and busy hosting our first group of retreatants!
The retreat was for a young adult group from Nuestra Senora Del Monte,
"Our Lady of the Mount," which consisted mainly of kids born in Mexico or first generation Mexican-Americans. So far it seems that when
groups come in and take there meals here, it basically means that I will
be stuck in the cafeteria, kitchen, or dish room all day. It takes about 2 hours to clean up after a meal, and by the time we're done cleaning up it's already time to start preparing for the next one. I enjoy it, though- time in the kitchens means time hanging out and talking to LC and Dirk, our two cooks. They're Chicago born and raised and between them they have so many quirks and funny stories that I'm kept thouroughly entertained. Dirk also likes playing blues and jazz music in the kitchen. He DJ's while I dance. Or, you know, "dance." Right now he's trying to teach me the difference between "real jazz" and "commercial jazz." It's a good time.
When I'm not in the kitchen or dish room, I like to be a wallflower at meal times and listen in on the
conversations of the retreatants. This time 'round that was particularly
difficult, as they were all speaking Spanish, but I enjoyed trying to figure out what they were saying. Also, I trust that in time the Rosetta Stone will work its magic on me and make such things a lot easier.
My first group of retreatants! A Hispanic community of young adults from Our Lady of the Mount.
As it turns out, most of my
hospitality ministry will be done in the cafeteria during meal times. After dinner on the second night, Father A and two seminarians, Martin and Luis, sat down
with me, Colleen (my fellow missioner and roommate), and Noreen (my director) and began talking to us about the kids,
their church, their enthusiasm for working with young adults, and some
tentative plans they have for their parishes. We had a casual conversation about the idiosyncrasies of language and our favorite places to travel before moving onto more interesting topics. Luis and Martin shared some of their experiences in the seminary and Luis moaned about how in Rome all they taught was, "Thomas Aquinas this and Thomas Aquinas that, and Summa this and Summa that!" I could certainly understand his frustrations, especially if scholastic theology wasn't particularly his thing, but I couldn't help but imagine how awesome it would be to take a class on Aquinas in ROMA!
One part of the conversation between
Colleen, Luis and I has me very excited. I started to describe the desire to be a member of a small, intimate, and intentional Church community that led me to the Cabrini Mission Corps and the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Luis responded, "Could you say that again?" At first I thought I had been speaking too fast for him, but he said that he, too, felt that love and intimacy were missing from the Church and that people just don't understand and don't see how Christ works in us. Huh. Aren't we all a little lacking in that department?
He said he's trying to get a project off the ground in which small groups of 6 or 7 people come together regularly to share their thoughts and feelings about where and how they experience God in their lives. Colleen and I volunteered to be guinea pigs. Unfortunately, it takes about 2 hours to get to Our Lady of the Mount from here, but Colleen and I are hoping to go at least twice a month for the 6pm Spanish mass! :D I have a feeling that that Church will be one of my favorites, but Old St. Pat's is competing for our love and attention as well...
Colleen really wants to get involved at a church that has a lot of energy and a lot of young people. Old Saint Pat's is located in the heart of Chicago and consists almost entirely of young adults. They have camping trips, a choir, trips to the Arizona/Mexican border to realize immigration issues, weekly yoga meditations, women's groups.. you name it, they've got it. The Church itself isn't quite my style. I like old, dark, gothic churches that have seen a lot of ware, and this place is the exact opposite. It's ... well... SUPER Irish and the stained glass windows were PASTEL colored. Think Easter. I didn't take pictures of any on the ground level because I didn't like them. Sorry.
Statue of Mother Cabrini inside St. Pat's.
The view from the balcony.
This is a small part of one of the stained glass windows that I liked. The rest were too pastel-y for me.
Old St. Pat above the altar there, with Mary and baby Jesus on the left and St. Joseph on the right.
Aside from the fact that I don't actually like the Church building too much, the music was excellent and the homily was even better. Colleen and I think we'll try to get involved here as well as at Our Lady of the Mount, but ... ah! We have our local parish that we haven't actually been to yet, either. Ahh!!!
After the 5 pm mass at Old St. Pat's we walked through Millennium Park lookin' for some jazz music, as the annual Chicago Jazz fest was taking place all weekend and we had to miss the first 2 days because of the retreat. Walking through Millennium Park, we encountered these popular works of Chicago art, some innovative architectural pieces, and a beautiful sunset.
When their mouths turn into an "o," water shoots out of it and the kids come runnin'. I couldn't believe they did, though- it was cold!
The Art Institute of Chicago
"American Fare, Irish Hopsitality"-- What?!
The view of the city from Grant park.
And this is for all my friends in Baltimore who never went to a jazz bar with me. I present Roy Hargrove, winner of two Grammy's ... not sure who the second dude is. According to Walter, this isn't "real jazz," it's commercial jazz. But I don't think he knows what he's talking about. It was the last act of the night. Enjoy!
All these wonderful events led up to Labor Day. Colleen and I got up early, prepared some food-offerings, and headed next door to Sr. Bridget's house for a BBQ. Noreen warned me that Sr. Bridget has a habit of planning BBQ's only to discover the morning of that she does not, in fact, own a grill. Colleen and I made some polite inquiries, ".. so... you definitely have a grill, right sister? Do you need coal or gas or anything?" Walter ended up coming to our rescue and took over grill responsibilities.
Meanwhile, the sisters had Colleen and I rolling in the grass we were laughing so hard- they wanted to pick themselves some peaches from Bridget's peach tree, but couldn't reach so they started smacking the branches with a stick. One would hit the limbs of the tree while another would stand beneath them with a shallow box, hoping to catch one before it hit the ground and split open. On the off chance that one did land in the box, it would just pop right back out and onto the cement driveway because it wasn't deep enough. Colleen and I watched them go at it for a while before I climbed the tree and retrieved the nearest peaches for them.
Sr. Bridget also has a little garden with tomatoes and peppers, among other things. She picked a few peppers for Sr. Alfonsina, who then went to put them in the plastic bag also containing Sr. Benigna's peaches and Benigna cried out, "Not with my PEACHES!!!"
Sr. Joaquina is funny too. And she gives god hugs. Sr. Bridget tried to pawn off a dozen cans of beer on Colleen and I when we first got here. We said, "Sorry, we don't really like beer," so she went and brought us something "refreshing"- carrot juice. Collen and I drank some. Yup. JUST like carrots. .... delicious.
Anyway, Bridget was happy that Joaquina turned up- she does enjoy the occasional brewsky. At the end of the day, Colleen went to take the leftover drinks away and Joaquina exclaimed, "Don't take away my beer!"
The last time we went over to Sr. Bridget's she pulled out another "refreshing" alternative- rice milk. Yup. You guessed it. Tastes JUST like rice. I told her I think she's trying to poison us. She appreciated the joke.
Walter comin' to the rescue at the grill-front!
Sr. Benigna whackin' away and Sr. Joaquina on pick up.
Sr. Bridget takes her turn while Sr. Joaquina gets fancy with the box as a catching instrument.
I decided to help out.
Sr. Benigna, Joaquina, and Walter.
Srs. Benigna, Joaquina, Alfonsina, Bridget, and Joan Marie. Oh- and me, too.
Me, Sr. Alfonsina, and Sr. Joan Marie makin' a bee line for the chips.
I had the presence of mind this time to add the Feta.
Oh America. Pink Lemonade, BBQ sauce, mustard, ketchup, and relish.
Colleen and Dirk
Colleen and Sr. Benigna.
I had an awesome holiday weekend and was so happy to finally meet all but one of the sisters in Chicagoland- Sr. Joan McGlinchy is currently in Rome. They are so sweet and adorable I can't wait to get to know them better. And their accents and the phrases they use leave me and Colleen in stitches.
Next on the agenda is to visit the sisters where they live. And my cousin too, still. All day Saturday we're going to be at a workshop with representatives from the Arch Diocese of Chicago on how to minister to young people who are 1st and 2nd generation immigrants. Then Sister Joan Marie wants us to go to a free opera performance with her Saturday night and we've got a "Meet the Missioners" mass and reception on September 11th, so ... we've got a lot to do! And the Loyola Academy kids will be keeping me busy this week here at the Retreat Center.
Oh, an I'm going to NOTRE DAME and DePAUL to represent CMC at volunteer fairs at the end of this month! I wonder if Dr. Pecknold remembers who I am. ? I guess I'll find out soon.
Love,
Gina
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