TFP Student Action volunteers handed out flyers and took surveys in front of the Allen Street Gate in State College, Penn.

Americans have good reason to distrust China. The recent contaminated Chinese exports remind us of a problem larger than tainted produce or toxic toys: China is still under communist rule and its people suffer brutal oppression, proven by continued forced abortions, religious persecution, and human rights violations.

Tradition Family Property Student Action members alerted university students about the China scandals at the Allen Street Gates located at the heart of Penn State University on Monday, September 10. Leaflets were distributed all over campus titled “Warning: Made in China.” Students received the information eagerly and questioned whether unrestricted trade with China will come back to haunt us. “Aren’t we feeding a communist giant?” was a sentiment shared by many, concerned with closer ties with communist China.

More on the website:
TFP article

I was reading Sheila Kitzinger’s book “The Complete Book of Pregnancy and Childbirth” this morning when I realized how offensive parts of it are to us. I am writing to ask for your prayers and any other help you can give me so that we can publish a pregnancy and childbirth book written by and for Catholic mothers.

It would not have any nude pictures of laboring women that you would hide from your husband or sons. Most pictures would be of women in dresses.
The term “family planning”, if used at all, would refer to helping the mother and father allocate funds for medical care and baby supplies, and think about how living arrangements will change after their baby’s birth.
Contraception will never be endorsed as a valid option. If mentioned at all, it will be in the context of helping the woman’s body heal from past contraception. NFP will be presented only as a means to conceive, with relevant Church teaching.
Abortion and sterilization will never be presented as valid options or “choices”. There could be a section for mothers whose bodies have survived an abortion or a reversed sterilization, perhaps with a piece by a priest about repentance, forgiveness, and healing.
The baby, whether born or unborn, will never be referred to as an “it”. I realize that many Catholic authors have done this, but it is especially disconcerting to me as a mother in third trimester to continually read “it” in place of “him” or even “him or her”. Our children have souls, therefore they are never “it”s.

Catholic teaching about the beauty and responsibilities of motherhood will be sprinkled throughout. Sections written by priests are welcome! Breastfeeding will be given precedence over formula feeding, and healthy alternatives to conventional formula will be presented. There could be a short discussion about circumcision with medical facts, and instructions on how to care for an “intact” penis and a circumcised penis.

I would love to include information about breastfeeding from Catholic professionals. I’ve heard that La Leche League was begun by Catholic mothers, but I have yet to find a Catholic LLL Leader.

Are you interested in accomplishing this with me? Do you think this is needed, or at least a good idea? Will you pray to St. Anne, St. Gerard, the Blessed Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and the Divine Infant Jesus of Prague for this effort, that it may be pleasing to God?

The Assumption of Mary.
*On this day the Church celebrates in honor of Mary two solemn festivals; the first is that of her happy passage from this world; the second, that of her glorious Assumption into Heaven.
August 15.

How precious was the death of Mary, both on account of the special graces that attended it, and on account of the manner in which it took place.

Death being the punishment of sin, it would seem that the divine Mother – all holy, and exempt as she was from its slightest stain – should also have been exempt from death, and from encountering the misfortunes to which the children of Adam, infected by the poison of sin, are subject. But God was pleased that Mary should in all things resemble Jesus; and as the Son died, it was becoming that the mother should also die; because, moreover, he wished to give the just an example of the precious death prepared for them, he willed that even the most Blessed Virgin should die, but by a sweet and happy death. Let us, therefore, now consider how precious was Mary’s death: first, on account of the special favors by which it was accompanied; secondly, on account of the manner in which it took place.

I.

There are three things that render death bitter: attachment to the world, remorse for sins, and the uncertainty of salvation. The death of Mary was entirely free from these causes of bitterness, and was accompanied by three special graces, which rendered it precious and joyful. She died as she had lived, entirely detached from the things of the world; she died in the most perfect peace; she died in the certainty of eternal glory.

I. And in the first place, there can be no doubt that attachment to earthly things renders the death of the worldly bitter and miserable, as the Holy Ghost says: O death, how bitter is the rememberance of thee to a man who hath peace in his possessions! (Ecclus. xli. I.) But because the saints die detached from the sins of the world, their death is not bitter, but sweet, lovely, and precious; that is to say, as St. Bernard remarks, worth purchasing at any price, however great. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. (Apoc. xiv. 13.) Who are they who, being already dead, die? They are those happy souls who pass into eternity already detached, and, so to say, dead to all affection for terrestrial things; and who, like St. Francis of Assisi, found in God alone all their happiness, and with him could say, “My God and my all.” (Deus meus et omnia.) But what soul was ever more detached from earthly goods, and more united to God, than the beautiful soul of Mary? She was detached from her parents; for at the age of three years, when children are most attached to them, and stand in the greatest need of their assistance, Mary, with the greatest intrepidity, left them, and went to shut herself up in the Temple to attend to God alone. She was detached from riches, contenting herself always to live poor, and supporting herself with the labor of her own hands. She was detached from honors, loving a humble and abject life, though the honors due to a queen were hers, as she was descended from the kings of Israel. The Blessed Virgin herself revealed to St. Elizabeth of Hungary, that when her parents left her in the temple, she resolved in her heart to have no father, and to love no other good than God.

St. John saw Mary represented in that woman, clothed with the sun, who held the moon under her feet. And a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun and the moon under her feet. (Apoc. xii. I.) Interpreters explain the moon to signify the goods of this world, which, like her, are uncertain and changeable. Mary never had these goods in her heart, but always despised them and trampled them under her feet; living in this world as a solitary turtle-dove in a desert, never allowing her affection to center itself on any earthly thing; so that of her it was said: The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. (Cant. ii. 12.) And elsewhere: Who is she that goeth up by the desert? (Ib. iii. 6.) Whence the Abbot Rupert says, “Thus didst thou go up by the desert; that is, having a solitary soul.” Mary, then, having lived always and in all things detached from the earth, and united to God alone, death was not bitter, but, on the contrary, very sweet and dear to her, since it united her more closely to God in heaven, by an eternal bond.

II. Peace of mind renders the death of the just precious. Sins committed during life are the worms that so cruelly torment and gnaw the hearts of poor dying sinners, who, about to appear before the divine tribunal, see themselves at that moment surrounded by their sins, which terrify them, and cry out, according to St. Bernard, “We are thy works, we will not abandon thee.” (Medit. c. 2.) Mary certainly could not be tormented at death by any remorse of conscience, for she was always pure, and always free from the least shade of actual or original sin; so much so, that of her it was said: Thou art all fair, O my love, and there is not a spot in thee. (Cant. iv. 7) From the moment that she had the use of reason, that is, from the first moment of her immaculate conception in the womb of St. Anne, she began to love God with all her strength, and continue to do so, always advancing more and more throughout her whole life in love and perfection. And all her thoughts, desires, and affections were of and for God alone; she never uttered a word, made a movement, cast a glance, or breathed, but for God and His glory; and never departed a step or detached herself for a single moment from the divine love. Ah, how did all the lovely virtues that she had practiced during life surround her blessed bed in the happy hour of her death! That faith so constant; that loving confidence in God; that unconquerable patience in the midst of so many sufferings; that humility in the midst of so many privileges; that modesty; that meekness; that tender compassion for souls; that insatiable zeal for the glory of God; and, above all, that most perfect love towards Him, with that entire conformity to the divine will: all, in a word, surrounded her, and consoling her, said: “We are thy works; we will not abandon thee.” Our Lady and Mother, we are all daughters of thy beautiful heart; now that thou art leaving this miserable life, we will not leave thee; we will also go, and be thy eternal accompaniment and honor in Paradise, where, by our means thou wilt reign as Queen of all men and of all angels.

III. Finally, the certainty of eternal salvation renders death sweet. Death is called a passage; for by death we pass from a short to an eternal life. And as the dread of those is indeed great who die in doubt of their salvation, and who approach the solemn moment with well-grounded fear of passing into eternal death; thus, on the other hand, the joy of the saints is indeed great (at) the close of life, hoping with some security to go and possess God in heaven. A nun of the Order of St. Teresa, when the doctor announced …her approaching death to her, was so filled with joy that she exclaimed, “O, how is it, sir, that you announce to me such welcome news, and demand no fee?” St. Lawrence Justinian, being at the point of death, and perceiving his servants weeping round him, said: “Away, away with your tears; this is no time to mourn.” (Bern. JuSt. Vit. c. 10.) Go elsewhere to weep; if you would remain with me, rejoice, as I rejoice, in seeing the gates of Heaven open to me, that I may be united to my God. Thus also a St. Peter of Alcantara, a St. Aloysius Gonzaga, and so many other Saints, on hearing that death was at hand, burst forth into exclamations of joy and gladness. And yet they were not certain of being in possession of divine grace, nor were they secure of their own sanctity, as Mary was.

But what joy must the divine Mother have felt in receiving the news of her approaching death! she who had the fullest certainty of the possession of divine grace, especially after the Angel Gabriel had assured her that she was full of grace, and that she already possessed God. Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee . . . thou hast found grace. (–St. Luke, i. 28.) And well did she herself know that her heart was continually burning with divine love; so that, as Bernardine de Bustis says, “Mary, by a singular privilege granted to no other Saint, loved, and was always actually loving God, in every moment of her life, with such ardor, that St. Bernard declares, it required a continued miracle to preserve her life in the midst of such flames.” (Marial. p.2, s. 5.)
Of Mary it had already been asked in the sacred canticles, Who is she that goeth up by the desert, as a pillar of smoke, of aromatical spices, of myrrh, and frankincense, and all the powders of the perfumer? (Cant. iii. 6.) Her entire mortification typified by the myrrh, her fervent prayers signified by the incense, and all her holy virtues united to her perfect love for God, kindled in her a flame so great that her beautiful soul, wholly devoted to and consumed by divine love, arose continually to God as a pillar of smoke, breathing forth on every side a most sweet odor. “Such smoke, nay even such a pillar of smoke,” says the Abbot Rupert, “hast thou, O Blessed Mary, breathed forth a sweet odor to the Most High.” Eustachius expresses it in still stronger terms: “A pillar of smoke, because burning interiorly as a holocaust with the flame of divine love, she sent forth a most sweet odor.” (De Assumpt.) As the loving Virgin lived, so did she die. As divine love gave her life, so did it cause her death; for the Doctors and holy Fathers of the Church generally say she died of no other infirmity than pure love; St. Ildephonsus says that Mary either ought not to die, or only die of love.

II.
But now let us see how her blessed death took place.
After the ascension of Jesus Christ, Mary remained on earth to attend to the propagation of the faith. Hence the disciples of our Lord had recourse to her, and she solved their doubts, comforted them in their persecutions, and encouraged them to labor for the divine glory and the salvation of redeemed souls. She Willingly remained on earth, knowing that such was the Will of God, for the good of the Church; but she could not but feel the pain of being far from the presence and sight of her beloved Son, Who had ascended to Heaven. Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also (St. Luke, xii. 34.), said the Redeemer. Where any one believes his treasure and his happiness to be, here he always holds the love and desires of his heart fixed. If Mary, then, loved no other good than Jesus, He being in Heaven, all her desires were in Heaven.

Tauler says, that “Heaven was the cell of the heavenly and most Blessed Virgin Mary; for, being there with all her desires and affections, she made it her continual abode. Her school was eternity; for she was always detached and free from temporal possessions. Her teacher was divine truth; fo her whole life was guided by this alone. Her book was the purity of her own conscience, in which she always found occasion to rejoice in the Lord. Her mirror was the divinity; for she never admitted any representations into her soul but such as were transformed into and clothed with God, that so she might always conform herself to His Will. Her ornament was devotion; for she attended solely to her interior sanctification, and was always ready to fulfill the divine commands. Her repose was union with God; for He alone was her treasure and the resting-place of her heart.” (Serm. in Nat. V.)

The most holy Virgin consoled her loving heart during this painful separation by visiting, as it is related, the holy places of Palestine, where her Son had been during his life. She frequently visited — at one time the stable at Bethlehem, where her Son was born; at another, the workshop of Nazareth, where her Son had lived so many years poor and despised; now the Garden of Gethsemani, where her Son began His Passion; then the Praetorium of Pilate, where He was scourged, and the spot on which He was crowned with thorns; but she visited most frequently the Mount of Calvary, where her Son expired; and the Holy Sepulchre in which she had finally left Him: thus did the most loving Mother soothe the pains of her cruel exile. But this could not be enough to satisfy her heart, which was unable to find perfect repose in this world. Hence she was continually sending up sighs to her Lord, exclaiming with David: Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly and be at rest? (Ps. liv. 7.) Who will give me wings like a dove, that I may fly to my God, and there find my repose? As the hart panteth after the fountains of water: so my soul panteth after Thee, my God. (Ps. xli. I.) As the wounded stag pants for the fountain, so does my soul, wounded by Thy love, O my God, desire and sigh after Thee.

Yes, indeed, the sighs of this holy turtle-dove could not but deeply penetrate the heart of her God, Who indeed so tenderly loved her. The voice of the turtle is heard in our land. (Cant. ii. 12.) Wherefore being unwilling to defer any longer the so greatly desired consolation of His beloved, behold, He graciously hears her desire, and calls her to His Kingdom.

Cedrenus (Comp. Histor. n. 86), Nicephorus (HiSt. 1. 2, c. 21.), and Metaphrastes (Or. de Vita et Dorm. M.) relate that some days before her death, our Lord sent her the Archangel Gabriel, the same that announced to her that she was that blessed woman chosen to be the Mother of God: “My Lady and Queen,” said the angel, “God has already graciously heard thy holy desires, and has sent me to tell thee to prepare thyself to leave the earth; for He wills thee in Heaven. Come, then, to take possession of thy kingdom; for I and all its holy inhabitants await and desire thee.” On this happy annunciation, what else could our most humble and most holy Virgin do, but, with the most profound humility, answer in the same words in which she had answered St. Gabriel when he announced to her that she was to become the Mother of God: Behold the handmaid of the Lord. (St. Luke, i. 38.) Behold, she answered again, the slave of the Lord. He in His pure goodness chose me and made me His Mother; He now calls me to Paradise. I did not deserve that honor, nor do I deserve this. But since He is pleased to show in my person His infinite liberality, behold, I am ready to go where He pleases. Behold the handmaid of the Lord. May the will of my God and Lord be ever accomplished in me!

After receiving this welcome intelligence she imparted it to St. John. We may well imagine with what grief and tender feelings he heard the news; he who for so many years had attended upon her as a son, and had enjoyed the heavenly conversation of this most holy Mother. She then once more visited the holy places of Jerusalem, tenderly taking leave of them, and especially of Mount Calvary, where her beloved Son had died. She then retired into her poor cottage, there to prepare for death.

During this time the angels did not cease their visits to their beloved Queen, consoling themselves with the thought that they would soon see her crowned in Heaven. Many authors, such as Andrew of Crete (In Dorm. S. M. or. I.), St. John Damascene (De Dorm b. M. or. I et 2.), Euthymius (HiSt. 1. 3, c. 40.), assert that, before her death, the apostles, and also many disciples who were scattered in different parts of the world, were miraculously assembled in Mary’s room, and that when she saw all these her dear children in her presence, she thus addressed them: “My beloved children, through love for you and to help you my Son left me on this earth. The holy faith is now spread throughout the world, already the fruit of the divine seed is grown up; hence my Lord, seeing that my assistance on earth is no longer necessary, and compassionating my grief in being separated from Him, has graciously listened to my desire to quit this life and to go and see Him in Heaven. Do you remain, then, to labor for His glory. If I leave you, my heart remains with you; the great love I bear you I shall carry with me and always preserve. I go to Paradise to pray for you.”

Who can form an idea of the tears and lamentations of the holy disciples at this sad announcement, and at the thought that soon they were to be separated from their Mother? All then, weeping, exclaimed, “Then, O Mary, thou art already about to leave us. It is true that this world is not a place worthy of or fit for thee; and as for us, we are unworthy to enjoy the society of a Mother of God; but, remember, thou art our Mother; hitherto thou hast enlightened us in our doubts; thou hast consoled us in our afflictions; thou hast been our strength in persecutions; and now, how canst thou abandon us, leaving us alone in the midst of so many enemies and so many conflicts, deprived of thy consolation? We have already lost on earth Jesus, our Master and Father, Who has ascended into Heaven; until now we have found consolation in thee, our Mother; and now, how canst thou also leave us orphans without father or mother? Our own sweet Lady, either remain with us, or take us with thee.” Thus St. John Damascene writes: “No, my children” (thus sweetly the loving Queen began to speak), “this is not according to the Will of God; be satisfied to do that which He has decreed for me and for you. To you it yet remains to labor on earth for the glory of your Redeemer, and to make up your eternal crown. I do not leave you to abandon you, but to help you still more in Heaven by my intercession with God. Be satisfied. I commend the holy Church to you; I commend redeemed souls to you; let this be my last farewell, and the only remembrance I leave you’ execute it if you love me, labor for the good of souls and for the glory of my Son; for one day we shall meet again in Paradise, never more for all eternity to be separated.”

She then begged them to give burial to her body after death; blessed them, and desired St. John, as St. John Damascene relates, to give after her death two of her gowns to two virgins who had served her for some time. She then decently composed herself on her poor little bed, where she laid herself to await death, and with it the meeting with the divine Spouse, Who shortly was to come and take her with Him to the kingdom of the blessed. Behold, she already feels in her heart a great joy, the forerunner of the coming of the Bridegroom, which inundates her with an unaccustomed and novel sweetness. The holy apostles, seeing that Mary was already on the point of leaving this world, renewing their tears, all threw themselves on their knees around her bed; some kissed her holy feet, some sought a special blessing from her, some recommended a particular want, and all wept bitterly; for their hearts were pierced with grief at being obliged to separate themselves for the rest of their lives from their beloved Lady. And she, the most loving Mother, compassionated all, and consoled each one; to some promising her patronage, blessing others with particular affection, and encouraging others to the work of the conversion of the world; especially, she called St. Peter to her, and as head of the Church and Vicar of her Son, recommended to him in a particular manner the propagation of the Faith, promising him at the same time her special protection in Heaven. But more particularly did she call St. John to her, who more than any other was grieved at this moment when he had to part with his holy Mother; and the most gracious Lady, remembering the affection and attention with which this holy disciple had served her during all the years she had remained on earth since the death of her Son, said: “My own John” (speaking with the greatest tenderness) — “my own John, I thank thee for all the assistance that thou hast afforded me; my son, be assured of it, I shall not be ungrateful. If I now leave thee, I go to pray for thee. Remain in peace in this life until we meet again in Heaven, where I await thee. Never forget me. In all thy wants call me to thy aid; for I will never forget thee, my beloved son. Son, I bless thee. I leave thee my blessing. Remain in peace. Farewell!”

But already the death of Mary is at hand; divine love, with its vehement and blessed flames, had already almost entirely consumed the vital spirits; the heavenly phoenix is already losing her life in the midst of this fire. Then the host of angels come in choirs to meet her, as if to be ready for the great triumph with which they were to accompany her to Paradise. Mary was indeed consoled at the sight of these holy spirits, but was not fully consoled; for she did not yet see her beloved Jesus, Who was the whole love of her heart. Hence she often repeated to the angels who descended to salute her: I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if you find my Beloved, that you tell Him that I languish with love. (Cant. v. 8.) Holy angels, O fair citizens of the Heavenly Jerusalem, you come in choirs kindly to console me; and you all console me with your sweet presence. I thank you; but you do not fully satisfy me, for as yet I do not see my Son coming to console me; go, if you love me, return to Paradise, and on my part tell my Beloved that I languish with love. Tell Him to come, and to come quickly, for I am dying with the vehemence of my desire to see Him.

But, behold, Jesus is now come to take His Mother to the kingdom of the blessed. It was revealed to St. Elizabeth that her Son appeared to Mary before she expired with His Cross in His hands, to show the special glory He had obtained by the redemption; having, by His death, made acquisition of that great creature, who for all eternity was to honor Him more than all men and angels. St. John Damascene relates that our Lord Himself gave her the Viaticum, saying with tender love, “Receive, O My Mother, from My hands that same body that thou gavest to Me.” And the Mother, having received with the greatest love that last Communion, with her last breath said, “My Son, into Thy hands do I commend my spirit. I commend to Thee this soul, which from the beginning Thou didst create rich in so many graces, and by a singular privilege didst preserve from the stain of original sin. I commend to Thee my body, from which thou didst deign to take Thy flesh and blood. I also commend to Thee these my beloved children (speaking of the holy disciples, who surrounded her); they are grieved at my departure. Do Thou, Who lovest them more than I do, console them; bless them, and give them strength to do great things for Thy glory.”

The life of Mary being now at its close, the most delicious music, as St. Jerome relates, was heard in the apartment where she lay; and, according to a revelation of St. Bridget, the room was also filled with a brilliant light. The sweet music, and the unaccustomed splendor, warned the holy apostles that Mary was then departing. This caused them again to burst forth in tears and prayers; and raising their hands, with one voice they exclaimed, “O, Mother, thou already goest to Heaven; thou leavest us; give us thy last blessing, and never forget us miserable creatures.” Mary, turning her eyes around upon all, as if to bid them a last farewell, said, “Adieu, my children; I bless you; fear not, I will never forget you.” And now death came; not indeed clothed in mourning and grief, as it does to others, but adorned with light and gladness. But what do we say? Why speak of death? Let us rather say that divine love came, and cut the thread of that noble life. And as a light, before going out, gives a last and brighter flash than ever, so did this beautiful creature, on hearing her Son’s invitation to follow Him, wrapped in the flames of love, and in the midst of her amorous sighs, give a last sigh of still more ardent love, and breathing forth her soul, expired. Thus was that great soul, that beautiful dove of the Lord, loosened from the bands of this life; thus did she enter into the glory of the blessed, where she is now seated, and will be seated, Queen of Paradise, for all eternity.

Mary, then, has left this world; she is now in Heaven. Thence does this compassionate Mother look down upon us who are still in this valley of tears. She pities us, and, if we wish it, promises to help us. Let us always beseech her by the merits of her blessed death, to obtain us a happy death (and let’s not forget St. Joseph, her spouse, who has been the comfort of dying also); and should such be the good pleasure of God, let us beg her to obtain us the grace to die on a Saturday, which is a day dedicated in her honor, or on a day of a novena, or within the octave of one of her feasts; for this she has obtained for so many of her clients, and especially for St. Stanislaus Kostka, for whom she obtained that he should die on the feast of her Assumption, as Father Bartoil relates in his life of the saint.

An Example follows in the book, and then the Second Discourse on the Assumption by St. Alphonsus de Liguori. I will type those when I can, and italicize the text that is italicized in the book. Thank you for your patience.

Thanks for sharing your spiritual wisdom and letting us feed you and playing with our daughter today! We hope to welcome you back soon.

Lillian was an energetic young woman who loved driving long distances, did not tire easily, and relished any opportunity to do a good deed.

She once drove two young servicemen to Fort Sill, Oklahoma, from her hometown of New Castle, Pennsylvania. After she dropped the man on base, she started back home.

At a diner where she stopped for coffee, Lillian met a stranded young serviceman who needed to get to Akron, Ohio. His wife was about to deliver their first child. Lillian drove him there. The grateful young soldier thanked her, and Lillian headed for home in New Castle.

But even the tireless Lillian had finally become weary. She decided to go to her sister’s home and sleep there.

Dorothy, her sister, lived in a trailer park in Kent, about ten miles from Akron. Lillian knew she was welcome at her sister’s home anytime.

But when she pounded at the door, no one answered.

She went around to the bedroom window and hammered on it loudly. No one stirred at all. But she managed to awaken the neighbor.

It was then that she smelled gas.

The neighbor, who also smelled gas, pried the trailer door open with a tire iron. Heavy gas fumes engulfed them. Lillian found her sister’s family inside. She and the neighbor pulled them out into the brisk fresh air. Thankfully, they all survived.

Decades later, Lillian still feels touched by grace.

“If I hadn’t picked up the serviceman in Oklahoma and driven him all the way to Akron, my family might very well have died that night. Sometimes, when you’re performing an act of kindness, the person who ends up benefiting the most is yourself!”

My commentary:
It is a mark of a generous and kind person that she would say that in saving her family, she herself benefited.
Today I met a neighbor who happened to be all packed up and ready to move. It was purely providential (not by chance). Catherine and I were walking around her building – Catherine was given shoes last Sunday and now we enjoy walking outside often when the weather allows – and this woman’s dog barked at us from a downstairs porch. The woman, who I will call Maribel, came out and said “How are you doing today?” as we were walking away. Catherine was holding my finger and I was continuing to walk with her so she wouldn’t be scared of the dog. When Maribel started talking to us, however, we stopped, and soon Catherine started walking back to the porch railing to see the dog better. Maribel told us about her animals and her stay in our apartment complex and when she said she has fish in a big aquarium, I asked if we could come inside and see. Maribel was kind enough to invite us in, where we not only saw fish – some bigger than Catherine’s hand and some approaching the width of her head – but we also saw Maribel’s little mouse! Maribel said the mouse was going to be fed to a snake, and she wanted to save it so she kept it as a pet. I asked her if she could put it in its exercise ball so we could see it and she obliged. Maribel is very relaxed and she was happy to talk to us and let us stay for a while. Catherine picked up the exercise ball a few times exclaiming “ball!” and the mouse got plenty of exercise exploring the apartment. Maribel locked her dog in an empty bedroom while the mouse was out. I was amused to see her cat get friendly with the mouse in the ball while it was rolling around, and glad that the cat wasn’t one who would try to attack the mouse. Perhaps some of that is due to Maribel’s laid-back attitude.
I am very glad that we met her, even if we will never see her again. I was able to give her some holy pictures, as she had none, and small Catholic books for her to take with her. It is very encouraging when someone says she is a reader. Maribel came with us to our apartment for a band-aid and admired our large framed picture of Our Mother of Perpetual Help in the living room, so later I found a much smaller one (I can’t get the large picture out of its frame) and copied it for her. I love it when God works through me! Alleluia. St. Joseph, pray for us. Our Mother of Perpetual Help, pray for us. Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.

I recommend to all parents the book “The Family Bed” by Tine Thenevin. It is a few decades old but its wisdom is timeless. If all parents who sleep separately from their babies read it, the world could be a happier place. It discusses the safety of sleeping with your baby, how it is a good way of bonding with adopted children, shares neat and sometimes tender stories (and sometimes heartbreaking!) of parents and their children, and much more.

We are still waiting for a godfather for Catherine. Please pray!

Luke has news that he will post when he is ready.

I am reading “Brave New World” by Alduous Huxley and strangely enough, enjoying it. I hope I find our friend’s copy of “Animal Farm” before he comes over again…I haven’t seen any torn pages around, so that means Catherine hasn’t got to it. A good book I’m reading is “The Marketing of Evil: How Radicals, Elitists, and Pseudo-Experts Sell Us Corruption Disguised As Freedom” by David Kupelian. I like that last name! I learned that Judge Blackmun, the Supreme Court judge who changed our country’s laws on abortion and caused the brutal murders of more than forty million people, had a daughter named Sally who became pregnant in college about seven years before Roe v. Wade. As you might guess, when Judge Blackman asked his wife and daughters about Roe v. Wade, she was favorable to abortion! She ended up having a miscarriage and the short marriage to the father of the baby dissolved.

~Luke-Jr

Lord, have mercy on us!!

my Mother my Confidence,
Corinne