Wife of dadwithnoisykids thought it would be more interesting to see what the noisykids would do with the handkerchiefs. Since most of them spent the day at an amusement park called 'Amish World' outside of Waco, I could only try out one handkerchief yesterday.
Here is a picture of Blessed Miguel Pro, a Jesuit priest who was executed in Mexico in 1921. He requested a moment to pray before being executed, then he kissed his crucifix, stood facing the firing squad without a blindfold, and held his arms up as if he were being crucified.
Usually I take the freeway to work, but if I hear of a traffic jam, I will take to the side streets of Dallas to avoid the delay. It wasn't until recently that I realized that my detour took me right over the spot where he was shot.
When I drive by the spot, I try to remember to pray for him, his wife, and the others who were forever affected by this act of violence.
1 handkerchief went to work with me and still is neat and clean in my
briefcase.
1 handkerchief given to my wife at Mass
0 Clean handkerchiefs in the sock drawer
NET HANDKERCHIEFS: 37
1 handkerchief given to son who sneezed, or rather erupted during Mass.
3 clean handkerchiefs found in clean sock drawer.
NET HANDKERCHIEFS: 38
| What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop." | |
| The Northeast | |
| The South | |
| The Midland | |
| Philadelphia | |
| North Central | |
| The West | |
| Boston | |
| What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes | |
Please pray for all priests, especially for my brother on his birthday. And please pray for more men to heed the call to serve God at the altar. Let's add a few more statues to this collection:
In Michigan, this song was so prevalent as I was growing up there that it
seemed to be a requirement that one know the lyrics before getting a
driver's license.
From what I have read, the Great Lakes pose a challenge to sailors because a
ship can't just go around some of these storms. If they did, they would run
out of Lake.
Gordon Lightfoot wrote and sang this ballad:
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.
The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!
There is another version of the song by a country/western singer where he
reads the names of the crewmen, with each name followed by the ringing of a
bell. It is a rather somber end to the song.
Please remember to pray for the repose of all the souls of the Faithful
Departed on this Friday.
I removed the ad that was here from microsoft. I am sorry these keep getting added to my posts that I e-mail to blogger
I had just been accepted to medical school, and I asked Mother Theresa to pray for me. She said she would, and invited me to Calcutta.
I never got to Calcutta. My spiritual advisor at the time pointed out that there may be a greater physical poverty in India, but that my 'Calcutta' may be to stay in a place with a greater amount of spiritual poverty; namely, the good old U.S. of A. (especially after yesterday's election results).
Perhaps one of the girls will one day join her order, or one of the boys will help her order out. They have a house in Dallas, and we plan on going some time and helping them. Time is so short these days.
