Monday, March 03, 2014

Pardon my dust

I changed my mind again. I can do that, right?

"You changed your mind about what?" you might be thinking, if you didn't see the post that I just took out of circulation. You see, recently, I had decided to split my blog into two blogs. I had a blog I hadn't been using, so that was perfect (or so I thought). That blog was called Reflections, so I thought I would put my reflections there. Perfect, huh? (Or so I thought.)

But this morning, I had a different thought! My faith and family - my reflections on life - are part of who I am. So those would go better on the blog that "goes by" my name. "Margaret Mary Myers thinks" this or that. 

But my thoughts about cooking, trying to organize, and living frugally, are part of what I do. Those posts would be better on a blog that has its own title, based on those thoughts rather than on the name of the person who writes them. So I named it Simply Frugal Concepts

Perfect this time? I hope.  

In the coming days or weeks, I might move some of my past posts one direction or the other (and hopefully I won't get mixed up and move them to the "wrong" blog). So, in the process, please pardon my "dust". 

Thank you and be blessed. 

Sunday, March 02, 2014

Diversity and Unity in Liturgy

This was posted in July of 2007. I am bringing it over from my other blog. 

“Take and Eat”
We can almost imagine being there with the apostles as Jesus gave them his Body and Blood for the first time at the Last Supper - the First Mass - because He does the same for us, each time we receive Holy Communion.

Just as Our Lord made the apostles into His first bishops and priests, they in turn ordained and consecrated more bishops and priests, taking the Holy Mass far and wide into many lands with many differing cultures.

In the midst of so many different cultures, there arose many differences in the ways the Mass was offered. Is it really the same Mass everywhere? Does each rite of the Mass have the marks of the Catholic Church: one, holy, Catholic (or universal), and apostolic?

Regardless of the differences in ceremonies and prayers, the Mass has always remained the same in essence.  Everywhere that there is the Mass, there is the Sacrifice of Calvary and there is the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Each Mass has the same three principal parts: the offering of the bread and wine; followed by the consecration of the bread and wine into the Precious Body and Blood of Our Divine Lord; followed by the partaking of Holy Communion.

Differences in Culture
In some cultures, people showed reverence by kneeling. In other cultures, they showed reverence by standing. Ways of approaching God and the world differed. As the Church spread throughout the world, the bishops took into consideration the different customs and ways of the people, and thus the different rites of the Mass came to have somewhat different prayers and ceremonies.

In the East, there arose the Greek rite, the Russian rite, the Ukrainian rite, and more. After the Great Schism, some of the churches of the Eastern rites remained faithful to the Holy Father and united with Rome.

The Mass of Pope St. Pius V
In the West, through the first fifteen centuries of the Church, the ceremonies and words of the Mass became more and more diverse. Then Pope Saint Pius V appointed learned men to study the ancient ceremonies and prayers, and to rewrite the Roman Missal, bringing unity to the words and ceremonies of the Mass. In 1570, he commanded this Missal to be printed and published, and to be the only Missal in use…except for those rites that had been in use for two hundred years or more, principally the Eastern Catholic rites.

In 1962, Pope John XXIII added the name of St. Joseph to the Roman rite Mass, and set down some new guidelines for the liturgical year.

The Mass of Pope Paul VI
In 1969, after Vatican Council II, Pope Paul VI made major changes to the Roman rite Mass, changing ceremonies and the wording of many of the prayers, and allowing the Mass to be offered in the language of the people.

Since the introduction of the Mass of Pope Paul VI, the “old Latin” Mass of Pope Pius V has continued to be offered by retired priests, as well as by some groups of priests both inside and outside the Catholic Church. In the 1980’s, an Indult was granted by Pope John Paul II, authorizing bishops to provide for a Tridentine Latin Mass in their diocese for those who prefer it.

Motu Proprio

Now that Pope Benedict has issued his Summorum Pontificum, there will be greater opportunity for the expansion of the Mass of Pope Pius V, for those who are particularly drawn to worship God through its venerable prayers and ceremonies.

The Four Marks
The Mass, in every form that the Popes have approved, has the four marks of the Church.

It is one: one Sacrifice and one Sacrament, offered in union with the one Holy Father.

Each Mass is holy and produces the means of holiness for its members, even producing saints. We have the great Saint John Chrysostom, the golden-tongued orator, an early Greek Father of the Church. We have St. John Bosco, the gentle but zealous apostle to youth, who celebrated the Tridentine Mass of Pope St. Pius V.  In our own time, we have Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who ministered to Jesus in the poorest of the poor, who attended the Mass of Pope Paul VI.

The Mass is Catholic or universal, reaching out to people everywhere and in all ages, striving to reach different people in the ways that they are best able to bring their hearts and minds to the worship and love of Almighty God.

The Mass, in every rite, is apostolic, having been passed down to us in all its essentials from the apostles, who received it from Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Elements of the Mass

I am bringing this over from the archives of my other blog. 

I wrote it in July of 2007. 

Having attended the traditional Mass most of my life, along with an Eastern rite Catholic Mass, I wanted to share some of the comparisons I had recently made.


1=Parish mass of Pope Paul VI
(from Seasonal Missalette, April 15 to August 11, 2007, World Library Publications)
2=Tridentine Mass of Pope St. Pius V/Blessed John XXIII
(from St. Andrew Daily Missal, 1962.)
3=Greek Divine Liturgy
(from My Prayer Book, Divine Services, Prayers and Hymns for the American Catholics of the Greek (Slavonic) Rite, 1962.)

Sorrow for Sins
1-Penitential Rite followed by Kyrie
2-Confiteor followed by Kyrie
3-Petition: For…the pardon and remission of our sins and transgressions, let us implore the Lord. Grant it, O Lord.

1-Glory to God in the highest and peace to His people on earth…
2-Glory to God in the highest. And on earth peace to men of good will…
3-Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and forever. Amen. O, only begotten Son and Word of God…



Profession of Faith – Nicene Creed

1-Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread to offer, which earth has given and human hands have made. It will become for us the bread of life. Blessed be God for ever. Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this wine to offer, fruit of the vine and work of human hands. It will become for us our spiritual drink. Blessed be God for ever. Pray, brethren, that our sacrifice may be acceptable to God the almighty Father. May the Lord accept the sacrifice at your hands for the praise and good of His name, for our good, and the good of all His Church.
2-O God, who in a wonderful manner didst create and ennoble human nature, and still more wonderfully hast renewed it; grant that by the mystery of this water and wine, we may be made partakers of His divinity who vouchsafed to become partaker of our humanity, Jesus Christ They son, our Lord… Brethren, pray that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God the Father almighty. May the Lord receive the sacrifice at your hands, to the praise and glory of His name, to our own benefit, and to that of all His holy Church.
3-That we may elevate the King of all, invisibly borne in triumph by the Angelic choirs. Alleluia…For the precious gifts offered, let us pray to the Lord. Lord, have mercy.


1-Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is right to give Him thanks and praise.
2-Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord our God. It is meet and just…
3-Let us lift up our hearts. We have them lifted to the Lord. Let us give thanks to the Lord. It is meet and just to adore the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the holy, consubstantial and indivisible Trinity.

Holy, Holy, Holy
1-Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power, God of might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna, hosanna, hosanna in the highest.
2-Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts. Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.
3-Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord of hosts, Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest.


Our Father

Preparation for Holy Communion
1-This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper. Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed.
2-Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, have mercy on us. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant us peace…Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof; say but the word and my soul shall be healed.
3-With fear of God and with faith approach. Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord; God is the Lord and hath appeared to us.

Reception of Holy Communion


These Were My People

Another historical post, which I am bringing over here from the archives of my other blog. This comes from July of 2007.

As I read the story of these sisters, I wept with joy.

Fifteen sisters of a sedevacantist community in Spokane, Washington have returned to the Church! If you're not familiar with the term "sedevacantist", it means "the seat is vacant". Sedevacantist proponents believe that there has been no valid Pope since Pope Pius XII in 1958. While some traditional Catholics have questioned some of the things that came out of Vatican II and some of the decisions of the Popes, most still recognize each current Pope as the Holy Father of the Church. But sedevacantists reject everything done by the Church from Pope Pius XII to the present as not being "Catholic".

If you have read my post "Color by Numbers - Not" about my religious journey, you may understand why I wept with joy when I read this story. I said in that post: "July 1971-October 1971-Fell into a cult, an ultra-traditional “Catholic” group, run by a man named Francis Schuckardt in Idaho. I was baptized Catholic, while there, by a retired, missionary priest who was just visiting. Left the cult (with the help of the prayers and explanations of the lady who instructed me in the Faith)…but regretfully left my best friend behind (though we are again close today)." The founder, Francis Schuckardt, left this group, decades ago, but the group has remained together and retained their sedevacantist beliefs.

I was only with this group for a couple of months and it was many years ago, but I spent at least a month living as a guest in the sisters’ convent. So these sisters were "my people"...if only for a short time. I don't know if any of the sisters who were there, then, are any of the ones who have been welcomed back into the Church, now, but it's all the same to me. I don't know whether any of them is the sister who told me that yes, I should hang onto my grandmother's quilt because we are supposed to take care of what we have (I was so relieved), or the sister who gave me a whole can of tuna when I had a day ahead of me up on "the hill" (I didn't yet know I had low blood sugar but she saved me that day), or the sister who made the little gift to me from the community when I was baptized: a holy water bottle made from a vanilla bottle, with a holy card of the Infant of Prague, lace, and a flower decopauged onto it (it sits on my dresser still). I don’t know if any of the sisters who is being received back into the Church is the one who held the door, as kindly as she could, to keep my new friend and me from entering their bookstore to tell the sisters why we left the organization (I'm sure she was “under obedience” to keep us out). I don’t know if any of them are the ones who put our things in the snowy yard when we came back to pick them up, so that they could keep the convent doors shut to us (again under obedience, and probably with heavy hearts). I don’t know if any of the sisters from that original, cultist regime are even still there. Probably many attitudes and customs had changed immensely over the past 36 years.

But I only know that when I read this article I rejoiced! I wept with joy. God moves mountains…in his own time.

Please pray for these sisters...and for the sisters they left behind.

Thank you, God, for waiting for these sisters, for bringing the people and messages into their lives that would bring them to this new joy. Your ways so mightily surpass ours.

June Trip to Pick up Paul

This goes w-a-y back, to July of 2007. I did a blog rearrangement at some point and it ended up here. So, as you read, just know this was a number of years ago.

Having had my son Peter become legally blind (and somewhat worse than legally blind), five years ago, I thought I could handle it happening to another one. Actually, I'm getting ahead of myself. It would be more true to say that during those five years since Peter first lost his vision, it had been unthinkable that it should happen to anyone else. We simply refused to entertain the possibility - until Paul called that January day, six months ago, with blurry vision. I was shocked and shaken. But his good attitude rubbed off on me. I told myself that if he could handle it so well, so could I. I told myself that I'd been through this before, so I could handle it now. And I threw myself into my blog. It was an outlet, something I could do...and something I could control. When Peter had lost his vision, I could throw myself into helping him learn all that he needed in order to adapt. Not so with someone who's an adult and lives in another state. There wasn't much I could do but pray. I couldn't even hug him across all those miles.

Paul's attitude did a lot to help the rest of us, as he was so faith-filled about it. His first words to me after he got the diagnosis were a serious but cheerful, "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the Name of the Lord." That doesn't mean, of course, that he doesn't have an occasional difficult moment or day. That doesn't mean that he doesn't ever get bored or frustrated because of all the things he can't do any more (like drive or see the t.v.) and all the things he can't do yet (like use the computer or read a book).

Over the months, Paul and Mary and Joe have all said that they thought Paul's vision has become worse than Peter's. We here in Baltimore thought they might possibly be wrong, or more accurately: "surely they are mistaken". After all, Peter was so much younger and probably adapted more quickly. It will just take time for Paul to be able to do as well as Peter. Various members of the family have had many a telephone debate on this topic. Perhaps it was optimism on our part or just a refusal to accept what we didn't want.

Yesterday Mary picked me up from the Cincinnati airport and took me to the house where our absolutely wonderful friends are hosting Paul like a member of the family. Paul came down to the kitchen and looked at me. But he didn't, really. Over these past years I've been around a lot of blind people and I knew as soon as I saw the unseeing look in Paul's eyes that his vision is, indeed, worse than Peter's. I'm not saying he is totally blind; he isn't. And please pray with us that he can keep what vision he has. I've found that however little vision someone has, that little bit is still something they treasure. Well, when I saw him I wasn't shocked (as I had feared I might be), just sorry. And maybe part of the reason that it didn't hit me as hard as I had feared, once again, was his attitude. He looked - how shall I say? - perfectly comfortable with who he is. And that, after all, is very important. At last I could hug him! And he's so grown up; even his hugs are more grown up, more comfortable with who he is than when we moved away nearly a year ago.

We had a few hours until time to catch our flight back to Baltimore, and Mary, bless her heart, hauled us all over town at my whims. As we went shopping, I told Paul that Carla had taught me that if I'm guiding a cane user, the cane user should use the cane in his or her right hand and take my right arm. I said laughingly, "Of course, I won't be able to hear you if you talk," (being totally deaf in my right ear). He said, "I can use my left hand for my cane." I said, "Are you ambidextrous?" Mary said, "He is now." I felt a little guilty about "making" him use his left hand for his cane, especially since he's only been learning the cane for a very short time; but hey, it seemed to work out okay for us.

As we maneuvered through airports, sometimes I gave Paul my left arm and sometimes my right. I certainly kept him on his toes, with him trying to figure out where I was and where to put his cane, and my sometimes walking off without him, expecting him to just follow me as Peter would. We had some good laughs over that.

Our first crisis was when we came to an escalator...but it wasn't his crisis, it was mine. "Paul, we're coming to an escalator," I said with panic in my voice. He didn't undertand my concern, so I added, "I have a phobia of escalators," (especially down escalators). He hadn't known. I had always used escalators in spite of my phobia; I still do. "But", I explained to him, "if I had a baby with me, I always either took the elevator or handed the baby off to someone else. I can't let you take my arm and guide you on an escalator," I said, with rising panic at the very thought. He accepted the fact that I wouldn't guide him on the escalator and reassured me that with his cane he would know when he reached the bottom, so I guided him to the rail. He did fine, and after that, whenever we had an escalator, I didn't hesitate. I just helped him to the rail, dealt with my own interior struggle, and we were on.

And I suppose that experience helped prepare me for the fact that we were flying on a commuter plane, the kind where you walk outside and up a narrow, steep staircase onto the plane. When it came time to get off the plane, I was ahead of him and looked down that staircase in concern. The rails seemed to me to be in all the wrong places. We both had backpacks, I had my purse, he had his cane, and I have poor balance and bifocals, and there, looming before us was this down staircase. An employee looked up at me and asked, "Would you like us to get a lift?" Oh no, no way. First of all, they don't know that Paul is new to being blind, and I don't want them to think blind people are helpless. Secondly, all I need is for someone to think I can't do something and I will prove them wrong. Thirdly, I'm very afraid of this lift idea, and fourthly, what a huge delay that would be. All those thoughts swiftly and subconsciously came together in the space of a millisecond, but I think that the main feeling was a thought of Peter and what he would answer in that situation. I'm ashamed to say I didn't even consult Paul. I just processed all those thoughts in that millisecond of time and answered confidently, "No thank you; he can do it!" And as the man took my backpack, I guided Paul's hand to the rail. No problem at all. (Please understand, as you read this, that this was less a problem of my confidence in what someone who's newly blind can do as my own personal phobia of going down anything.)

As we waited for the plane, we talked, and I discovered that Paul is not only anxious to learn how to use adaptive technology (i.e. get back on the computer), but that he would love to learn Braille too. We had a nice conversation with a lady who was waiting for the same flight. She and I happened to go to the restroom at the same time, so I briefly told her our story, how Paul had only begun losing his vision a few months ago. Later on, after the flight, she and I were once again together, buying food, and she told me how well he is doing for his vision loss having happened so recently. Ah, praise of our child is always music to a mother's ears, isn't it?

We did have a lot of good laughs. Once I took Paul to the men's room and being restless, I forgot to wait outside the hallway to the doorway, and instead paced my way into that hallway, where a man walked in, turned on his heel and began to walk away quickly. I called him back, informing him with a chuckle that he hadn't made a mistake. I said, "I'm waiting for someone who is a cane user." I then asked myself why I said that? Why "cane user"? Why not someone who is blind? I really don't know. Maybe because someone once told me that someone was "a braille user". It felt less like labeling, and more like focusing on the strength. And believe me, cane use is a strength, as I saw on every staircase and (deep breath) escalator.

And Paul is our strength, too, in many ways. Yesterday we had a tornado warning; one was sighted about eight miles away, heading in our direction. We went to the most interior part of the apartment, but first I grabbed my flashlight. Being deaf in one ear, I don't do well in the dark...and if a tornado should hit, I wanted to be prepared. Paul grabbed his... cane? Nope, his rosary beads. Well, I grabbed his cane, because if a tornado should hit, I wouldn't want him to be without it. (By the way, I'm not phobic about everything. I just like to be a good girl scout and "be prepared".) So, we got settled in and I asked Paul to lead us in the Rosary. He led us with so much devotion; not because he lost his vision, by the way, but because he's Paul. And then we were done and the danger had passed, and he led the boys in playing animal, vegetable or mineral.

As he sleeps in, I look at him and forget that he's blind...and then I remember, and I wonder if he ever wishes he could wake up and find that it was just a bad dream. But I don't ask him that question. That, I think, is just my own thought, my own adjustment that I am struggling to make as I am able to spend a little time with him at last. For him, the waking up from a bad dream will be learning how to adapt. He has his books on CD. Now he's begun learning his cane use. When he can learn how to use computers, and hopefully at some point learn Braille, and learn all those adaptive techniques, his life will be as full as ever. Life does go on. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. And the Lord gives again in mysterious ways.

Party Manners for Blog Visits

I posted this on 8/16/2007 at my other blog. I think I was being a tad bit bossy, but oh well, I'm re-posting it for history's sake. :)

Let’s compare a blog to a home. My blog is my home; you are my guest. Mi casa es su casa. “My house is your house.” You are most welcome, and I’m really glad you are here!

Now, before I say anything more, let me say that I have never had any problem with pertinent comments here at any of my own blogs. (I say “pertinent” because I have rejected comments that were simply spam.) My only desire regarding comments at my blog would be that more people leave more comments, more often. I’d love it if you’d participate! However, if you’re busy or tired, you are welcome to just come by and take a few moments to look and listen, and then go about your business…or go on to the next party. I know some of you have many to attend. And I know you have much to do in the “other world”…the world of kids and houses and errands.

But here’s what I’m concerned about: The past few days, as I’ve been visiting other peoples’ blogs, I’ve wondered if some people don’t realize that they are guests at a party in someone else’s home. A blog, really, is not a newspaper, where people write letters to the editor…some of which appear in an angry tone.

If we were in a friend’s home and she had a movie playing on the t.v. and we thought some scenes might not be appropriate to the situation, would we get everyone’s attention and tell her loudly how wrong she was to play that movie? Or would we take her aside, pointing out our concerns quietly, assuming she didn’t realize what was in the movie…or at least how it might affect the people there? In some cases, she might not agree with our opinion on the subject. If we felt strongly enough, we could leave graciously, but it wouldn’t be our responsibility to tell her in front of all her guests what we think of her choices…nor would it be polite. Probably in real life, none of us would think of telling her what she must do or being rude about it. But in the virtual life on the internet, I’ve seen comments publicly telling a blog host or hostess in no uncertain terms, in their own blog home, what they should not have posted.

Along similar lines, some blogs are more geared to inviting the kids along than others. Some years ago, we had good friends who often invited us to parties in their home, always making their guests aware beforehand that children weren’t included in the invitation. This way they didn’t have to worry about what types of discussions were carried on in front of the children. Similarly, some blogs aren’t really geared to children, so we shouldn’t be concerned if the discussions that are carried on might not be appropriate for our kids; we can just not go with the kids unless it’s designed for the kids.

A feisty woman who was born in the early 1900’s, very near and dear to me, once talked to me after a party at someone’s home. She told me of a controversial topic that arose, and how she wanted to tell the hostess how wrong she was! She went on to say to me, very sweetly, “But I was a guest in her home; so of course, I didn’t.”

This isn’t to say that no one should have controversial discussions in the comment boxes on any blogs. Some blogs seem to invite controversial discussions and possibly thrive on them. But here’s where the faceless anonymity of the internet sometimes seems to contribute to people not using the same courtesies they would in person. If we stay with our party analogy, it might help if we visualize ourselves at the party of a friend; our host or hostess may even be in another room while we’re talking with strangers, but we know these people are guests of our friend. This might make it easier to tell someone we think their view is wrong, while remaining courteous to the person we’re disagreeing with.

There’s one place where I myself have to really work to be courteous. It’s when someone writes to disagree strongly, sometimes insultingly, with the blog host or hostess – or someone else in the combox – and remains anonymous. To view a public blog, even to comment on a public blog, one doesn’t have to sign up or sign in.  You can comment anonymously, if you’d like, with no contact information. But if you want to comment without signing in, how about leaving a name at the end of the comment? It doesn’t have to be the real name. It can be a screen name. Let’s imagine we’re at a costume party. We wouldn’t mind having a discussion with a character at a costume party. We could say, “Peter Pan, what do you think about this?”, even if we don’t know Peter Pan personally. We could say, “Cinderella, I don’t agree with your point”, even if we don’t know who the person dressed as Cinderella is. But would we be comfortable talking to a number of people who are mingling at a party, all wearing ski masks, all looking just alike? Unless we are really good at picking up the voice, we might not know, as one goes to the refreshment table and one to talk with another group, which one it is who returns to resume the discussion. Is this the person I discussed such and such a point with? Or is it a different person disguised in an identical ski mask?

I guess in order to give these anonymous people their due respect, I should envision someone I know behind that mask. I’m sure that most people who leave comments anonymously aren’t trying to hide anything. Perhaps they’re just not confident enough to give us a firm handshake, and say, “Hi. I’m so and so.” Or maybe they’re nervous about the internet…

And it is a good thing to be aware that whatever you post on the internet, if it’s not a private blog, email or e-group, may be searchable. I’ve done a Google search on my name before and found that a little comment that I wrote hurriedly in a comment box, appears in the search. So, yes, it does pay to think before we speak. But, then, that’s always a good idea, isn’t it? I’ll probably be working on that one all my life.

The Robe of Christ

(I am moving this over here from my other blog.)

It might not seem, at first, that a poem about the wiles of the devil would be a positive thing to reflect on. However, it is in the seeking of guidance from the Mother of Jesus that the poem gains its value, besides the fact that it is written in a beautiful and interesting way. If the name of the author doesn't ring a bell, he's an American poet, who also wrote a well-known poem called Trees (which ends with, "Poems are made by fools like me. But only God can make a tree.")

The Robe of Christ by Joyce Kilmer

At the foot of the Cross on Calvary
Three soldiers sat and diced,
And one of them was the Devil
And he won the Robe of Christ.

When the Devil comes in his proper form
To the chamber where I dwell,
I know him and make the Sign of the Cross
Which drives him back to Hell.

And when he comes like a friendly man
And puts his hand in mine,
The fervor in his voice is not
From love or joy or wine.

And when he comes like a woman,
With lovely, smiling eyes,
Black dreams float over his golden head
Like a swarm of carrion flies.

Now many a million tortured souls
In his red halls there be:
Why does he spend his subtle craft
In hunting after me?

Kings, queens and crested warriors
Whose memory rings through time,
There are his prey, and what to him
Is this poor man of rhyme?

That he with such laborious skill,
Should change from role to role,
Should daily act so many a part
To get my little soul?

Oh, he can be the forest,
And he can be the sun,
Or a buttercup or any hour of rest
When the weary day is done.

I saw him through a thousand veils,
And has this not sufficed?
Now must I look on the Devil robed
In the radiant Robe of Christ?

He comes, and his face is sad and mild,
With thorns his head is crowned:
There are great bleeding wounds in his feet,
And in each hand a wound.

How can I tell, who am a fool,
If this be Christ or no?
Those bleeding hands outstretched to me!
Those eyes that love me so!

I see the Robe -- I look -- I hope --
I fear -- but there is one
Who will direct my troubled mind:
Christ's Mother knows her Son.

O Mother of Good Counself, lend
Inelligence to me!
Encompass me with wisdom,
Thou Tower of Ivory!

"This is the Man of Lies," she says,
"Disguised with fearful art:
He has the wounded hands and feet,
But not the wounded heart."

Beside the Cross of Calvary
She watched them as they diced.
She saw the Devil join the game
And win the Robe of Christ.

by Joyce Kilmer