Sunday, July 29, 2012
From The Gospel of John, Chapter Six
Jesus went off to the other side of the Sea of Galilee and a large crowd followed Him, impressed by the signs He gave by curing the sick. Jesus climbed the hillside, and sat down there with His disciples.
Looking up, Jesus saw the crowds approaching and said to Philip, "Where can we buy some bread for these people to eat?" Phillip answered, "Two hundred denarii would only buy enough to give them a small piece each." One of His disciples, Andrew said, "There is a small boy here with five barley loaves and two fish; but what is that between so many?" Jesus said to them, "Make the people sit down." Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks, and gave them out to all who were sitting ready; He then did the same with the fish, giving out as much as was wanted. When they had eaten enough He said to the disciples, "Pick up the pieces left over, so that nothing gets wasted." So they picked them up, and filled twelve hampers with scraps left over from the meal of five barley loaves.
The rest of the story, possibly: A MOTHER FRETS...I tell you, Rachel, that boy of mine keeps me guessing! I never know where to find him - - especially when I need him for a chore. But today, he actually told me where he was going. Jesus, that young carpenter from Nazareth, is out in our countryside somewhere preaching to a crowd no doubt. My Jacob and some neighbor boys went off to join the others this morning - You needn't ask me who will be right up front when they reach the place.
I packed a lunch for him to take along - - just a few of my little barley loaves and a couple of dried fish. That's more than he needs, but he always shares what he has - I only worry that he will give it all away. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if he even offers the food to Jesus himself. If so, surely that good man will see that my boy keeps a little for himself. Everyone knows that a growing boy has to eat.
.......Brother Franklin Cullen, C.S.C./St. Anthony Messenger
I read this little story years ago and saved it. And it fits nicely with today's Gospel.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
This Week's Funeral...
Move ahead a few years, we were all newly married. Vern had been hunting, shot a pheasant and I knew that Roger was an outdoors man and so invited Jo and Roger to dinner. He was so nervous, - pardon the old expression 'like a whore in church' - this really cool looking dude was so insecure meeting new people. He survived the meeting - and the meal - and before long he and Vern started hunting and fishing together.
He loved the outdoors and eventually meeting new people and over the years, Keith and Marge Lee, Roger and Joanne and Vern and I traveled together on long weekends into the North woods. Many good memories and lots of fish pictures and stories.
Today, walking into the service, I met Jerry and Glenn Lee and sat with them and they started telling Roger stories. Jerry told how he was so impressed as a little guy that Roger had taken a label maker and on everything he owned, and Jerry stressed everything, he had the label: 'Roger Billings - Fisherman'.
Roger's dad was a dentist in southern Illinois and was abusive to him and when he was four his parents divorced and he had little contact with his father after that. Roger and Joanne had three boys, one died at birth, young Roger who died in his 20s from heart failure and Jeff, who at age three fell off a bridge in Wisconsin while everyone was fishing, and drowned. I remember Jeff's funeral, the little casket and Jo and Roger trying to console all of us. Joanne developed a disease called Scleraderma and as the disease progressed, she became harder to live with. He did all the cooking and cleaning and tried to make their lives as easy as possible. After Joanne's death, he married Fran and they were pretty simpatico and they loved going to flea markets and traveling. And Roger was an avid Cardinals fan.
This poem was in the funeral program:
I still see him in the early dawn,
that big smile on his face,
with rod and reel and tackle box,
heading for his special place.
Or gathering his gun and that old dog,
down the road they'd go.
The joy he got from those short trips
Was more then we will ever know.
He's come home now, as the sun sets west,
with that same big smile on his face.
He's landed the big one, the very best...
and Heaven is now his special place.
The poem is so appropriate for Roger and this man who had so much sadness in his life and always seemed to rise above it is now in a good place. Rest in peace, Roger Billings - Fisherman.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Route 121
On Friday I drove down Interstate 155 to Lincoln to visit niece, Michelle and her family. My sister, Judy has been staying there - and tiling the new kitchen, Michelle and John live in a tri-level house built probably in the 1970s. The entrance is at ground level and then up three wide steps to a living room with a white fireplace and book shelves at the opposite end of the room. A door to the left lead to the kitchen and the living room L'ed into the dining room.
Now, at the top of those three steps is one big room. White cabinets on the outside walls - the kitchen side has fridge, cook top and double ovens and on the former dining room wall, the new cabinets meet the bookcases by the fireplace - and in the center a dark wood four foot L shaped island with a bench attached on the dining room side. On the far back wall instead of a kitchen door and a window in the dining room there are twin double doors out onto a deck with a small cupboard between, the new coffee station. The walls are painted a pretty shade of green/gray/blue - hard to describe the color and amazing tiles to match above the cook top and coffee space. Mich and John have done a good job renovating this level of their home - beautiful - and after a nice visit, I headed home.
Going north and driving back up that splendid four lane highway brought back a lot of memories when this was Route 121 and the times we went to visit Judy and Bill in Lincoln or when we went all the way to Missouri to visit Vern's parents. When we started going south, it was 121 to Route 66, long before the Interstate Highway System. Then when I 55 was built for some reason going down 121 was not as bad as coming home up that miserable two lane trail.
I remember many a humid, hot July night - windows rolled down (before air conditioning) trying to pass trucks - why is it on a two lane road and you are trying to go around a truck in a passing lane, cars keep coming in the other lane but the opposite lane is free when you're in a no passing zone? And then there were all those Sunday nights after Thanksgiving when 121 had a light sprinkle of snow and the traffic was bumper to bumper heading back to Washington - a lot of people who worked at Caterpillar were from the South.
The little town of Hartsburg was next with its posted speed limit that you didn't dare go one mile over because the two car police force would come out of nowhere and fine you for going over the recommended mileage. There was a rumor that the fines collected supported the town budget.
Then crossing the Mackinaw River over the old metal bridge, a four way stop at Route 36, out in the middle of the prairie. Down Main Street in Morton, turn right on Jefferson, out through the country to the Washington/Morton blacktop to the square and then home. Every time I drive on a four, six or eight lane Interstate road, I salute Dwight Eisenhower, the President who signed the bill to start the whole system. Old Route 121, you are not missed!
Now, at the top of those three steps is one big room. White cabinets on the outside walls - the kitchen side has fridge, cook top and double ovens and on the former dining room wall, the new cabinets meet the bookcases by the fireplace - and in the center a dark wood four foot L shaped island with a bench attached on the dining room side. On the far back wall instead of a kitchen door and a window in the dining room there are twin double doors out onto a deck with a small cupboard between, the new coffee station. The walls are painted a pretty shade of green/gray/blue - hard to describe the color and amazing tiles to match above the cook top and coffee space. Mich and John have done a good job renovating this level of their home - beautiful - and after a nice visit, I headed home.
Going north and driving back up that splendid four lane highway brought back a lot of memories when this was Route 121 and the times we went to visit Judy and Bill in Lincoln or when we went all the way to Missouri to visit Vern's parents. When we started going south, it was 121 to Route 66, long before the Interstate Highway System. Then when I 55 was built for some reason going down 121 was not as bad as coming home up that miserable two lane trail.
I remember many a humid, hot July night - windows rolled down (before air conditioning) trying to pass trucks - why is it on a two lane road and you are trying to go around a truck in a passing lane, cars keep coming in the other lane but the opposite lane is free when you're in a no passing zone? And then there were all those Sunday nights after Thanksgiving when 121 had a light sprinkle of snow and the traffic was bumper to bumper heading back to Washington - a lot of people who worked at Caterpillar were from the South.
The little town of Hartsburg was next with its posted speed limit that you didn't dare go one mile over because the two car police force would come out of nowhere and fine you for going over the recommended mileage. There was a rumor that the fines collected supported the town budget.
Then crossing the Mackinaw River over the old metal bridge, a four way stop at Route 36, out in the middle of the prairie. Down Main Street in Morton, turn right on Jefferson, out through the country to the Washington/Morton blacktop to the square and then home. Every time I drive on a four, six or eight lane Interstate road, I salute Dwight Eisenhower, the President who signed the bill to start the whole system. Old Route 121, you are not missed!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Thoughts On Marriage
As for myself, I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was Always......Red Skelton
* * * * * *
The formula for a happy marriage is the same as for living in California: when you find a fault, don't dwell on it.
* * * * * *
Puppy love could lead to living a dog's life......Fulton J. Sheen
* * * * * *
Moonlight and roses are bound to fade
For every lover and every maid
But the bond that holds in any weather
Is learning how to laugh together
* * * * * *
Keep your eyes open before marriage, half shut afterwards..........Ben Franklin
* * * * * *
If you love something, set it free.
If it returns, you haven't lost it
If it disappears and never comes back,
Then it wasn't truly yours to begin with.
.......and if it just sits there watching television unaware it's been set free,
You probably already married it.
* * * * * *
Happy marriages begin when we marry the ones we love, and they blossom, when we love the ones we marry....Tom Mullen
* * * * * *
The divorce rate would be lower if instead of marrying for better or worse people would marry for good.......Ruby Dee, Actress
* * * * * *
(This was on the program at Cammie Piper Meerdink's wedding (Marge's granddaughter) written by the groom's grandmother)
"What makes a marriage last?"
To do what is best for your partner in life.
To respect the commitment of husband and wife.
To be still and just listen...not have to be heard.
To forgive and forget and not need the last word.
To admit you're not perfect....you'll both make mistakes.
To support the decisions that each of you makes.
To be willing to laugh when a day has been rough.
To divide up the burdens when life becomes tough.
To support one another when things get too hurried.
To comfort each other when stress keeps you worried.
To be willing to cherish your true love and friend.
With joy of compassion that never could end.
.....Geneva Meerdink
* * * * * *
The formula for a happy marriage is the same as for living in California: when you find a fault, don't dwell on it.
* * * * * *
Puppy love could lead to living a dog's life......Fulton J. Sheen
* * * * * *
Moonlight and roses are bound to fade
For every lover and every maid
But the bond that holds in any weather
Is learning how to laugh together
* * * * * *
Keep your eyes open before marriage, half shut afterwards..........Ben Franklin
* * * * * *
If you love something, set it free.
If it returns, you haven't lost it
If it disappears and never comes back,
Then it wasn't truly yours to begin with.
.......and if it just sits there watching television unaware it's been set free,
You probably already married it.
* * * * * *
Happy marriages begin when we marry the ones we love, and they blossom, when we love the ones we marry....Tom Mullen
* * * * * *
The divorce rate would be lower if instead of marrying for better or worse people would marry for good.......Ruby Dee, Actress
* * * * * *
(This was on the program at Cammie Piper Meerdink's wedding (Marge's granddaughter) written by the groom's grandmother)
"What makes a marriage last?"
To do what is best for your partner in life.
To respect the commitment of husband and wife.
To be still and just listen...not have to be heard.
To forgive and forget and not need the last word.
To admit you're not perfect....you'll both make mistakes.
To support the decisions that each of you makes.
To be willing to laugh when a day has been rough.
To divide up the burdens when life becomes tough.
To support one another when things get too hurried.
To comfort each other when stress keeps you worried.
To be willing to cherish your true love and friend.
With joy of compassion that never could end.
.....Geneva Meerdink
Friday, July 13, 2012
Journey - Two Years Later (The Diagnosis)
When this whole cancer thing started, I kept a journal through June to October. I was looking for something else and found it . "From the journal " is written in italics.
At the end of June, 2010, my left foot and leg started swelling and remained so for several days. When I called Dr. Mulcahy, she sent me immediately to the Emergency room. She suspected a blood clot. The results of the sonogram of the left leg showed nothing so they did a sonogram of my lung and the emergency room doctor told me they suspected lung cancer and that I should make an appointment with a pulmonary specialist. Hearing I had cancer was so shocking, I have never smoked. I was really amazed. When I pulled in the driveway at home, I teared up, seeing this little house that I love and maybe not being able to live here a long time made me sad. I called Carol across the street - she's a teaching nurse at Methodist. She said to come over. Spending an hour with Carol and Mary really calmed me. I am so grateful for their time. Dr. Whitten scheduled a Thorasenthesis for June 28. Angela came down to be with me. Last week was a long week, I've felt like there's an axe hanging over my head. I fluctuate between total despair and resignation to faith inspired hope. I have not felt like praying a lot of the time or attending daily Mass. Just feel drained of faith most of the time. I have asked for prayer from friends and family and I think their prayers are what are sustaining me.
June 29th: I went to Mass this morning and asked Msgr. Watson to anoint me with the Sacrament of the Sick. He did and I thanked him and he said: "I love when people ask for Sacraments". What a good person he is.
July 1, 2010: Well today, I got the diagnosis. It's lung cancer. When I said to Msgr. Swaner, "I've never even smoked", and he said, ",but you've been a chimney." meaning second hand smoke. I called Maureen and she called the other daughters, called Judy to let the sisters know, called Marge but no answer, called Bill and he said: " Phyllis is in town and I'm going to tell her to come right over." She was here in a short time. She and I were fixing a dish of ice cream and Bill appeared at the door. So we had Culver's Frozen yogurt with pecans topped with Lemoncello and caramel or chocolate. Not bad!! I really thought I wanted to be alone but having them here helped. Good, good friends.
July 3: Had dinner at Red Lobster - love those cheese biscuits - with Doug Opper and Maureen. He was exactly what both of us needed. We laughed all through dinner. Then back to the house for Lemoncello over ice. Question: how many bottles of liqueur on ice sustains you when you have lung cancer???
July 6: The fourth was a lovely day. Maureen and I went to Mass and breakfast, lazed around most of the day and then about 8:30 in the evening, we put a couple of lawn chairs in the trunk - just in case - and headed towards the waterfront. Leah was with us. we found a parking place at an empty building's lot, walked about a block and a half, set up our chairs a little below the crowd - alongside Hooters - and saw an amazing fireworks display. For a a flash, I wondered if this is my last Fourth fireworks, but I can't go there. This can't be a year of lasts, that's defeating my spirit.
Another thought about the fireworks, at the end when they are coming right down over us and not stopping, I felt overwhelmed and almost agitated and remember thinking: "is this what heaven is like, this overwhelming spectacular?"
Here it is two years later, and I am still going strong. I've had chemo and survived. I've had some wonderful adventures and some difficult times. But I am still here. And from time to time, I may blog other things from this Journey.
The rest of the story..... Leah was with us: Our family believes that our daughter/sister/neice/cousin/aunt is in heaven. And the reason we believe that is because Leah who never learned to drive finds us parking spots at and in the most unbelievable places. A time that really made believers of us was when we were at Wall Drug Store in South Dakota about fourteen years ago and if you've ever been there it is a tourist trap extraordinaire, and we drove by and Ellen who was eight years old at the time, asked for Leah to find us a
parking spot close by, and one opened up right in front.
The swelling in my left leg: It went away and has never come back. The doctors don't seem to know why. I believe it was Our Lord saying: " get your butt to the doctor, you got a problem".
At the end of June, 2010, my left foot and leg started swelling and remained so for several days. When I called Dr. Mulcahy, she sent me immediately to the Emergency room. She suspected a blood clot. The results of the sonogram of the left leg showed nothing so they did a sonogram of my lung and the emergency room doctor told me they suspected lung cancer and that I should make an appointment with a pulmonary specialist. Hearing I had cancer was so shocking, I have never smoked. I was really amazed. When I pulled in the driveway at home, I teared up, seeing this little house that I love and maybe not being able to live here a long time made me sad. I called Carol across the street - she's a teaching nurse at Methodist. She said to come over. Spending an hour with Carol and Mary really calmed me. I am so grateful for their time. Dr. Whitten scheduled a Thorasenthesis for June 28. Angela came down to be with me. Last week was a long week, I've felt like there's an axe hanging over my head. I fluctuate between total despair and resignation to faith inspired hope. I have not felt like praying a lot of the time or attending daily Mass. Just feel drained of faith most of the time. I have asked for prayer from friends and family and I think their prayers are what are sustaining me.
June 29th: I went to Mass this morning and asked Msgr. Watson to anoint me with the Sacrament of the Sick. He did and I thanked him and he said: "I love when people ask for Sacraments". What a good person he is.
July 1, 2010: Well today, I got the diagnosis. It's lung cancer. When I said to Msgr. Swaner, "I've never even smoked", and he said, ",but you've been a chimney." meaning second hand smoke. I called Maureen and she called the other daughters, called Judy to let the sisters know, called Marge but no answer, called Bill and he said: " Phyllis is in town and I'm going to tell her to come right over." She was here in a short time. She and I were fixing a dish of ice cream and Bill appeared at the door. So we had Culver's Frozen yogurt with pecans topped with Lemoncello and caramel or chocolate. Not bad!! I really thought I wanted to be alone but having them here helped. Good, good friends.
July 3: Had dinner at Red Lobster - love those cheese biscuits - with Doug Opper and Maureen. He was exactly what both of us needed. We laughed all through dinner. Then back to the house for Lemoncello over ice. Question: how many bottles of liqueur on ice sustains you when you have lung cancer???
July 6: The fourth was a lovely day. Maureen and I went to Mass and breakfast, lazed around most of the day and then about 8:30 in the evening, we put a couple of lawn chairs in the trunk - just in case - and headed towards the waterfront. Leah was with us. we found a parking place at an empty building's lot, walked about a block and a half, set up our chairs a little below the crowd - alongside Hooters - and saw an amazing fireworks display. For a a flash, I wondered if this is my last Fourth fireworks, but I can't go there. This can't be a year of lasts, that's defeating my spirit.
Another thought about the fireworks, at the end when they are coming right down over us and not stopping, I felt overwhelmed and almost agitated and remember thinking: "is this what heaven is like, this overwhelming spectacular?"
Here it is two years later, and I am still going strong. I've had chemo and survived. I've had some wonderful adventures and some difficult times. But I am still here. And from time to time, I may blog other things from this Journey.
The rest of the story..... Leah was with us: Our family believes that our daughter/sister/neice/cousin/aunt is in heaven. And the reason we believe that is because Leah who never learned to drive finds us parking spots at and in the most unbelievable places. A time that really made believers of us was when we were at Wall Drug Store in South Dakota about fourteen years ago and if you've ever been there it is a tourist trap extraordinaire, and we drove by and Ellen who was eight years old at the time, asked for Leah to find us a
parking spot close by, and one opened up right in front.
The swelling in my left leg: It went away and has never come back. The doctors don't seem to know why. I believe it was Our Lord saying: " get your butt to the doctor, you got a problem".
Monday, July 9, 2012
Today is my seventy-sixth birthday. I got an e-mail from brother Richard, who reminded me that on my 25th birthday he asked me how it felt to be a quarter of a century old. Being twenty-five sounded much younger than being a quarter of a century. I didn't appreciate his comment much at the time. Now it's just thrilling to say that you are more than three quarters of a century young.
I can remember sitting on the steps at the house on Hurlburt Street and opening a present from my parent's friend, Frank Scherer - a spoon and fork with my initials - on my second or third birthday. Don't remember what happened to them but with seven younger siblings they were probably passed along and were worn out. When I was 13, I got a brand new Murray Bicycle that the parents bought at Western Auto. Don't know what happened to that bike either. Russ had a paper route and he may have used it for that or Judy may have ridden it to the playground at Webster School. I can remember riding it over to the Doyles on Millman Street - We lived on Howett at the time - and I had a crush on Patrick Doyle. Also on my 13th birthday, Ernie Scherer, who lived with us and was Frank's younger brother took me over to the Steak and Shake in East Peoria for Ice Cream and then a ride on the Red Arrow Speed Boat. We had to walk down steps behind the Steak and Shake to the dock for the boat. It was one of those beautiful wooden Chris Craft type boats and for a fee it took you on a short trip up and down the river. (When Ernie came home from WWII, he lived with us while he was going to Bradley). Every once in awhile you will see one of those beautiful old boats on the river. Just love those boats and how the wind felt against your face.
For my 60th birthday, a group of friends had a surprise party for me in Bill and Phyllis Calliss' back yard. And a little over ten years later, Vern and I went to my God Daughter, Peggy Moser's son, Nick's wedding in the early afternoon in Roanoke, Il and then later that same day we went to Brian and Angela Ludlom's wedding in Bill and Phyllis' front yard. A string quartet played at the wedding and when it was over the group played Happy Birthday to me - which sounds good just played by strings.
This year I awoke about 4:30 and turned on the television. I had taped the movie, Oklahoma, during the night so the first song I heard this morning was Oh, What a Beautiful Morning. What a way to start the day. Phone calls, face book messages and e mails from family and friends including one slightly off kilter rendition of the birthday song by persons unknown!
Angela drove down from Pec and we went to lunch at Biegnets on the Corner - really good brisket - and then home to watch my new favorite movie: Marilyn Hotchkiss's Dancing and Charm School.
Now it's evening and I'm enjoying quiet time. By the way, the title of this blog is 75 and Holding.....On, now starts the holding on part. I am so blessed and feel much love tonight. Thanks!
I can remember sitting on the steps at the house on Hurlburt Street and opening a present from my parent's friend, Frank Scherer - a spoon and fork with my initials - on my second or third birthday. Don't remember what happened to them but with seven younger siblings they were probably passed along and were worn out. When I was 13, I got a brand new Murray Bicycle that the parents bought at Western Auto. Don't know what happened to that bike either. Russ had a paper route and he may have used it for that or Judy may have ridden it to the playground at Webster School. I can remember riding it over to the Doyles on Millman Street - We lived on Howett at the time - and I had a crush on Patrick Doyle. Also on my 13th birthday, Ernie Scherer, who lived with us and was Frank's younger brother took me over to the Steak and Shake in East Peoria for Ice Cream and then a ride on the Red Arrow Speed Boat. We had to walk down steps behind the Steak and Shake to the dock for the boat. It was one of those beautiful wooden Chris Craft type boats and for a fee it took you on a short trip up and down the river. (When Ernie came home from WWII, he lived with us while he was going to Bradley). Every once in awhile you will see one of those beautiful old boats on the river. Just love those boats and how the wind felt against your face.
For my 60th birthday, a group of friends had a surprise party for me in Bill and Phyllis Calliss' back yard. And a little over ten years later, Vern and I went to my God Daughter, Peggy Moser's son, Nick's wedding in the early afternoon in Roanoke, Il and then later that same day we went to Brian and Angela Ludlom's wedding in Bill and Phyllis' front yard. A string quartet played at the wedding and when it was over the group played Happy Birthday to me - which sounds good just played by strings.
This year I awoke about 4:30 and turned on the television. I had taped the movie, Oklahoma, during the night so the first song I heard this morning was Oh, What a Beautiful Morning. What a way to start the day. Phone calls, face book messages and e mails from family and friends including one slightly off kilter rendition of the birthday song by persons unknown!
Angela drove down from Pec and we went to lunch at Biegnets on the Corner - really good brisket - and then home to watch my new favorite movie: Marilyn Hotchkiss's Dancing and Charm School.
Now it's evening and I'm enjoying quiet time. By the way, the title of this blog is 75 and Holding.....On, now starts the holding on part. I am so blessed and feel much love tonight. Thanks!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Fulton J. Sheen
The front page of July 8 Catholic Post, the newspaper of the Diocese of Peoria, has an article about Pope Bendedict naming hometown priest, Fulton J. Sheen - he was born in El Paso, Il. but grew up in St. Mary's parish on the northside and attended Spalding Institute for high school - as "venerable", the second of four key steps in the canonization process. (beatification and canonization are next). In the early 1950s, Archbishop Sheen had a half hour national television program called "Life is Worth Living", where each week he would speak on living a closer life with Our Lord. His show was very popular. So popular that for many years, the comedian, Milton Berle had the number one television show until he aired against Archbishop Sheen. His message was given with humor and in a down-to-earth style that won him an Emmy and he was named Time Magazine's 'Man of the Year' in 1952. He was the author of many books. If he is canonized, he would be the first Male American-born saint.
He was ordained at St. Marys Cathedral but studied in Europe. He was a brilliant man and the Church expected big things of him. In the middle of all this European study, Archbishop Schlarman, then the Bishop of Peoria, called him back home to serve as an assistant at St. Patricks Parish on Peoria's southside. He served there for less than two years. And it was the only time in his career that he assisted in a parish setting. St. Patricks was my family's home parish. The people at St. Patricks were mostly poor Irishman and Lebanese families. It was not uncommon for those older black hatted and head scarved women who spent the morning in Church, first at Mass and then in front of the Blessed Mother statue saying the Rosary to talk about "Young Father Sheen". And as he became more famous because of television and his work with the Catholic missions, whenever he came back to Peoria, he was feted everywhere but he always stayed at St. Patricks rectory. When the children were young, Mother and I would often go to early Mass - this was before I learned to drive - and if he was in town he would say the early Eucharistic Celebration. I remember him saying that he never used notes for his homily because "if he couldn't remember what he was going to say, how could he expect the congregation to remember".
Once when we were in the eighth grade, this would be 1949/50, the word got around the neighborhood that he was saying early Mass. The eighth grade class was singing at the Mass and we were sitting up in the choir loft. We moved from the pews to stand and sing in front of the keyboard and massive pipes - probably to be closer to Sister Mary Francis who was playing the organ - to sing some part of the Mass - probably the Kyrie - and when we went to go back to our pews, they were filled with spectators because the Nave was full and the overflow came upstairs. So I remember that we knelt in between people during the readings and homily. At that time, the kneelers in the main Church were padded but the kneelers in the choir loft were wood. I don't remember what he said that day only that my knees hurt!!
One year, at the St. Patricks Spaghetti Dinner, LaVonne (Sis) Raineri and I were selling dinner tickets from the ticket window in the vestibule of the gym. The Archbishop was in town and Father Tom Henseler brought him to the window and introduced him to us. We shook hands and I remember that he had deep set smiling eyes that looked like he could see into your soul. I have always thought that Jesus must have had eyes like that. We chatted only for a moment but what a good memory. Somewhere I have - unless I gave it to one of the daughters - a 78 record of him in that distinctive rich voice of his, saying The Hail Mary and the poem, Lovely Lady Dressed in Blue. I remember this much of that poem:
"Lovely Lady dressed in Blue
Teach me how to pray.
God was just your little Boy
Tell me what to say. (there's more to the poem, it's very sweet and we all learned it)
He was lauded around the world and headed the Propagation of the Faith, which was the Mission branch of the Church. But what has always impressed me the most about him was that every day he spent at least an hour, quietly, on his knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament. His message was that life is worth living because God loves us here, now and forever and that, dear friend, is something worthwhile to remember.
He was ordained at St. Marys Cathedral but studied in Europe. He was a brilliant man and the Church expected big things of him. In the middle of all this European study, Archbishop Schlarman, then the Bishop of Peoria, called him back home to serve as an assistant at St. Patricks Parish on Peoria's southside. He served there for less than two years. And it was the only time in his career that he assisted in a parish setting. St. Patricks was my family's home parish. The people at St. Patricks were mostly poor Irishman and Lebanese families. It was not uncommon for those older black hatted and head scarved women who spent the morning in Church, first at Mass and then in front of the Blessed Mother statue saying the Rosary to talk about "Young Father Sheen". And as he became more famous because of television and his work with the Catholic missions, whenever he came back to Peoria, he was feted everywhere but he always stayed at St. Patricks rectory. When the children were young, Mother and I would often go to early Mass - this was before I learned to drive - and if he was in town he would say the early Eucharistic Celebration. I remember him saying that he never used notes for his homily because "if he couldn't remember what he was going to say, how could he expect the congregation to remember".
Once when we were in the eighth grade, this would be 1949/50, the word got around the neighborhood that he was saying early Mass. The eighth grade class was singing at the Mass and we were sitting up in the choir loft. We moved from the pews to stand and sing in front of the keyboard and massive pipes - probably to be closer to Sister Mary Francis who was playing the organ - to sing some part of the Mass - probably the Kyrie - and when we went to go back to our pews, they were filled with spectators because the Nave was full and the overflow came upstairs. So I remember that we knelt in between people during the readings and homily. At that time, the kneelers in the main Church were padded but the kneelers in the choir loft were wood. I don't remember what he said that day only that my knees hurt!!
One year, at the St. Patricks Spaghetti Dinner, LaVonne (Sis) Raineri and I were selling dinner tickets from the ticket window in the vestibule of the gym. The Archbishop was in town and Father Tom Henseler brought him to the window and introduced him to us. We shook hands and I remember that he had deep set smiling eyes that looked like he could see into your soul. I have always thought that Jesus must have had eyes like that. We chatted only for a moment but what a good memory. Somewhere I have - unless I gave it to one of the daughters - a 78 record of him in that distinctive rich voice of his, saying The Hail Mary and the poem, Lovely Lady Dressed in Blue. I remember this much of that poem:
"Lovely Lady dressed in Blue
Teach me how to pray.
God was just your little Boy
Tell me what to say. (there's more to the poem, it's very sweet and we all learned it)
He was lauded around the world and headed the Propagation of the Faith, which was the Mission branch of the Church. But what has always impressed me the most about him was that every day he spent at least an hour, quietly, on his knees in front of the Blessed Sacrament. His message was that life is worth living because God loves us here, now and forever and that, dear friend, is something worthwhile to remember.
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