Book Review: The Rosary: Eucharistic Meditations

What a wonderful way to meditate -- to combine the mysteries of the Rosary with prayerful reflections on the Gift of Jesus in the Holy Eucharist!

These short, engaging meditations enabled me to see and feel more clearly how Jesus lived, and what he did and does for us, and to draw closer to him.

I am grateful for this lovingly written book which shares with us the deep love of Jesus.

The Rosary: Eucharistic Meditations with St. Peter Julian Eymard, Apostle of the Eucharist

Because Amelia Smiled - A Book Review

Because Amelia Smiled, by David Ezra Stein, is a lovely picture book for all ages, yes, adults included. 

This picture book gently exposes children to different cultures while also bringing home the beauty of the ripple effect, that Amelia's smile indirectly affects so many people in so many places in so many different ways.

Although Amelia was running down the street holding hands with her parents, the theme of the book made me think of a disabled person who, in the eyes of the world, might not seem able to give very much, but who, in reality, brings beauty and joy to the world with a smile. Or, on the other side of that coin, I know a few adults who are not physically disabled but sometimes cannot muster a smile, yet who give a kind word or help someone in need in whatever ways they can. And so it goes with each person's contributions. 

The positive contributions of one individual to our world are greater than we can measure or know, and I think this book beautifully reinforces this concept. 

Because Amelia Smiled

My Experience with a Pseudo-Catholic Cult

Introduction:

This is the story of my experience in the early 1970's, in going to what I call a "pseudo-Catholic cult". In calling it that, I'm not saying or implying that all the individuals involved were not Catholic, but rather that the charismatic, dogmatic leader claimed to be leading all that was left of the Catholic Church, while the Catholic Church did not recognize the organization as being legitimate. But my story is simply for the purpose of sharing my own experiences, and it is in no way meant as an indictment of any of the generous people who I met along the way. 

In telling my story, I avoid giving names except those of leaders, most of which are readily available in a simple search. My avoidance of names may make for awkward reading on occasion, and a little repetition, but please bear with me.  This is my own account, based on the facts as I saw them, written from my personal memory and understanding. I do not want to misrepresent anyone, should I remember something a little bit wrong, and I don't want to hurt anyone or their families, many of whom have already been hurt in so many ways.

Part 1:

As I said to a friend, decades later, "I came in to the Catholic Church through the back door," to which she replied with a smile, "You came in through the bathroom window."  Allegories aside, I grew up as a Protestant - as we called ourselves in those days - in the 1950's and '60's in Vancouver, Washington (a small town across the Columbia River from Portland, Oregon).

Through a childhood friend, I became acquainted with some of the rich culture of the Catholic Church at an early age. I enjoyed hearing the stories of the saints; but I was also very content with my own church, where I had encouragement in my prayer life, and support for my daily life, first from my Sunday school and later from my youth group.

But one weekday afternoon I went with my Catholic friend to St. James Cathedral for a visit.  There, among the statues and candles, I was filled with a deep sense of peace. Although it wasn't an instant conversion, it was the sense of Presence, I think, more than anything, which gradually drew me to the Catholic Church. In my senior year of high school I decided to become a Catholic. Little did I know what a rocky road stretched ahead of me!

My girlfriend's mother was very upset about Vatican II and the changes in the Church, especially the changes in the Mass. So I went with them to a traditional Latin Mass at St. Birgitta's Catholic Church in Portland. Later, we drove ourselves. Of course, it was an adventure for us Vancouver kids to be driving to Portland for church.

I learned that, because it was a Croatian mission church, the priest answered directly to Rome rather than to the local bishop; consequently, he was able to offer the Latin Mass in an era when it was usually not allowed in the churches.

I told the pastor, Fr. Milan Mikulich, that I would like to become a Catholic. He told me he was going on an extended trip to Europe and would begin instructing me after he returned. I was disappointed by the delay, but in the meantime, I read Catholic books, including Chats with Converts (Fr. M.D. Forrest); The Autobiography of St. Therese; Fr. Smith Instructs Jackson by Archbishop John Francis Noll; and The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis.

I also read a book by a traditionalist, Patrick Henry Omlor, which was called, Questioning the Validity of the Masses using the New All English Canon. The author posited the theory that the "new Mass" was not valid, based on the changes in wording. What was a young prospective Catholic to think? The same as her friend and her friend's mother, and some of the people with whom we had donuts and coffee after Mass, or the young people we met with for "cell meetings" with the Fatima Crusade, an organization founded and directed by a man called Brother Francis, who had formerly held an active role in the Blue Army of Our Lady of Fatima.

One weekend in the summer of 1971, after I graduated from high school, Brother Francis, with his right hand man Brother Denis, and a lay missionary sister came to our little town. We went to listen to them speak at the lecture hall of the PUD (the Public Utilities Department). They were quite charming, really.

After the talk, my friend and I drove the lay missionary sister to where she was spending the night. On the way, she told us enthusiastically about a 10-day summer seminar which was coming up in August in a camp in Idaho. She was very sweet and charming, and I had always loved going to my church summer camps; so it was easy for her to talk me into going. My only concern was getting time off from work, but I did, and my friend and I both headed to Idaho.

Part 2:

Someone from Portland offered to give us a ride from Vancouver to the camp in Idaho…a gentleman whose daughter was a sister with the group. I have no recollection why we accepted the offer instead of driving ourselves in my car; perhaps it was to save money since I had recently rented an apartment and things were a little tight for me.

When we checked in to the seminar, they took our watches. 'But wait. I've had my watch since I was in third grade. No one told me I was signing up for this.'  I don't know if I said it or only thought it, but they reassured us that they would give them back at the end of the 10-days. (Of course we didn't have cell phones in those days.).

And so began ten days filled with hours and hours of torturous lectures by Francis Schuckardt, all about the many terrible things that were "wrong" in the Church and in the world.  I have no idea how many hours he actually lectured since we were not allowed our watches; but I know we had a little time for Mass, which was offered by an elderly retired priest. We had a little time for sleep and meals. We were expected to practice silence always, except during recreation, when we had a little time to play volleyball or go to the chapel to pray privately. Even though I'm normally a talkative person, one of the first days I chose to go to the chapel to be alone, because I wanted to try to sort out my thoughts. But thinking for myself had become increasingly difficult as the days wore on; and I gave up.

Finally, the long ordeal was over. At this point, you might think we would have run, not walked, to get out of there. But there were two problems with that. First of all, the person from Portland who drove us up there was nowhere to be found. Secondly, how could we go back to "the world"?  There was nothing for us out there. Francis had told us about the "humanoids" and "possessed persons" who wandered the streets, who lived among us in the worlds we came from. He had also told us that, "All of the bishops are apostates! And anyone who follows an apostate bishop is ipso facto excommunicated!"  There was nothing for us in the churches we came from.

Pretty much, if we didn't want to go to hell, we better stay. There is little that is as powerful as threatening people with the loss of their souls.

I would like to share a free verse poem that I wrote a few years ago about going to that seminar, and then I will share the next chapter in the journey.

Ten Day Seminar, by Margaret Mary Myers

Our watches gone,
Time dragging on.
“The wicked world is dangerous!
Be safe with us.”
Endless listening to
Endless ranting.

Free time – one time.
Time alone, with God.
“What should I do?”
“Keep My commandments.”
Moment of connection.
Moment of sanity.

Cling to the connection.
Cling to the sanity.

Our watches gone,
Time dragging on.
“The wicked world is dangerous!
Be safe with us.”
Endless listening to
Endless ranting.

Connection fading.
Sanity sliding.

Endless time ending.
Watches returned, intact,
But broken to our needs;
Our spirits broken, like their usefulness.

Time to go home,
Yet not home, to the world,
Where dangers lurk
And devils dwell. 

  

Part 3:

So there we were…without a car, without a phone, without the desire to go home. We might have gone to "The Center" to phone home to our parents ('the center' was where they sold books and gifts, and had a phone); or we might have written a letter. I can't remember which it was after all this time. I do remember I wrote a letter to my landlady and offered her my furniture in exchange for the rent I couldn't pay. And then, finally, the man who had driven us to Idaho returned from wherever he had gone and offered to drive us back.

We went home, said our good-byes to our puzzled, and probably heart-broken, parents; we gathered a few of our things; and we headed back up in my car.

We were told we could stay as guests in the convent. They generously shared their meager food with us, one or two cubes of bouillon to a huge pot of water, and fruit and bread from dumpster diving at the nearby grocery store, but also good eggs and milk from farmers in the community. I don't remember where my childhood friend slept (if I even knew at the time), but I remember sleeping under the table in the dining room; of course I still had my sleeping bag from the camp. I also remember sleeping upstairs on a bedroom floor, hoping that the missionary sister - the one who had come to Vancouver way back in what seemed like another lifetime –would not step on me in the dark when she came in from the home of some family in the group, whom she had gone to visit.

The sisters I lived with came to call the lay missionary sister my "guardian angel", as she was assigned to prepare me for reception into the Church and we spent a lot of time together, poring over books and talking. As it turned out, my missionary sister taught me the same things I had read in Catholic books in past months. But some of the things we talked about seemed different from some of the things that Brother Francis was teaching. She came to trust me, and she told me confidentially of her concerns about some of the things he had been saying. We had to talk about this in the basement or while taking a walk because the cardinal rule and atmosphere was that no one must ever question Francis or anything he said.

But soon it was time for my Baptism at the big church in the country. A retired missionary priest, Fr. Ernest Speckhart, who had served in South America and was now living in Los Angeles, came up to help out at a weekend conference, and Sister arranged for him to be the one to baptize me. I felt sorry for the people who had to wait through the Confession, conditional Baptism, and First Holy Communion before they could attend the long Mass. But there was a bit of a spirit of festivity after it was all over, and people congratulated me.

At that same weekend conference - part of which was held in the little town - I came out after the evening talks one night and my car wouldn't start. A couple of the young men (teenagers, perhaps) tried to jump- start it for me, but someone said they accidentally jump-started it backwards. So there it sat, parked along the curb, and it got impounded. Someone else drove me and my friend back to the convent, and there sat my car in the impound lot. Of course I didn't have any money for repairs or impound fees; although I don't know where I would have gotten money for more gas, anyway. Now I truly had given up almost everything. Now I was even more completely dependent…I who had been so responsible from an early age.

Part 4:

After a few days or weeks (who knows which it was), I wrote Brother Francis a letter telling him that I had decided I didn't want to become a sister; I would rather be a lay missionary. He had someone take me to the center so I could call him; and he told me that was a Protestant idea. Being a new convert, that hurt. But, he said, since you feel that way, you should leave the convent, and there is a woman who works, and who has two school children boarding with her. You can go live with her and help take care of the children, he said. And so I did.

The woman I lived with seemed like a reasonable person, and the little girls were sweet, but it might have been the first afternoon I was there that a neighbor woman came over to scold us that the girls, for heaven's sake, should not be playing in pants. They must wear only long skirts always, not just for church and school but for play too. I guess my hostess hadn't understood the rules. Also, the girls, just like the women, must cover their heads with a mantilla or a scarf at all times, this neighbor told us.

Then one day someone came to drive me to the center again, because Brother Francis wanted to talk to me once more. He was all sweetness and charm this time. He said, since I wanted to be a lay missionary, he had an opportunity for me. I could go to Phoenix with a couple who were returning to their home there. I could help at their center. And the lay missionary sister would be going too, and we could help with this couple's little girl, also. Francis said he would pay to have my car repaired, so that we could all drive down there in it.

And so, I left my childhood friend behind, just as I had previously left behind my family, my extended family, my other friends, my job, and my apartment. And I set off on another adventure.

In spite of that sorrow, as we drove further and further south, I felt a sense of relief at leaving the place behind.

Within a day or two, the couple left for Chicago where they were going to meet Brother Francis. We would stay behind to care for their small daughter. Before they left, our host said to us, "Feel free to help yourselves to any of the books in the library while we are gone!" We thanked him and said good-bye.

My missionary sister was delighted to see the books, because she was concerned and wanted to check some things out. The day before they left on this trip, the woman had told her she was picking up something for an ordination. I think she hadn't meant to share that and let it slip out.

Well, Francis had recently told Sister about a bishop he had been in touch with in Chicago, a Bishop Daniel Q. Brown, a bishop of the "Old Roman Catholic" Church.  And here we were with a Catholic Dictionary and a whole set of Catholic Encyclopedias at our disposal. And so, in between taking care of the little girl, we went to work on research. We learned that the Old Roman Catholic Church had broken with the Catholic Church at least as early as the 1800's. I have learned more recently that Daniel Q. Brown had been a Catholic layman, and had left the Church in the 1960's due to the changes brought about by Vatican II, joining the Old Roman Catholics, where he was ordained and consecrated. At some point, I read, he rejected the Old Roman Catholic Church; however, he took full advantage of his orders to pass them along.

My missionary sister and I felt we could not stay, knowing what we did about how Brother Francis was getting ordained. We packed my car, filled it with gas, and parked it, facing out and where they could not inadvertently block it when they came home. We were ready to go as soon as the couple returned from Chicago.

We fully expected the couple to return to Phoenix and tell us that Francis had become a priest, but both they and we were in for a shock! Their shock was that we were not delighted…and that we were leaving. Our shock came when they told us that Francis Schuckardt had not only been ordained a priest, but had also been consecrated a bishop the very next day.  Of course, they were not happy that we were leaving! But away we went, driving through the night to Los Angeles, where Sister had friends, including Fr. Speckhart, the priest who had baptized me.

Part 5:

We arrived at a home in Los Angeles in time for Sunday Mass. People warmly welcomed us with open arms. In the coming days, my friend found a chance to talk to Fr. Speckhart privately, and she told him what she knew about the ordination and consecration of Francis. He then did his own research. At the next week's Mass, Fr. Speckhart explained it to the people during his sermon, telling what was wrong with what Francis had done. Fr. Speckhart's talk was not well received, as the loyalty was not to him but to their distant charismatic leader, Francis Schuckardt.

Later that week, a friend showed us a letter that had gone out immediately, to all the followers in the L.A. area, as soon as someone had phoned up to Idaho with news of Father Speckart's talk. The letter came directly from Francis Schuckardt. In it, he named the three of us…my missionary sister friend, Fr. Speckhart, and me. In the letter, Francis said that we had chosen to become enemies of the community. No one was to have anything to do with us! And all the way down in Los Angeles, the people obeyed completely it seemed, all except for the one family, the ones who showed us the letter. But to get to or from their house, we had to park far away on another street and walk in, hoping against hope, for their sake, that no one would drive by and see us walking. This family still had children in the boarding school in Idaho, and we didn't want to endanger them in any way.

Soon, this couple decided to drive to Idaho to bring their children home. They invited us to go along, as we had left some of our belongings behind when we drove to Phoenix. They told no one they were coming. When we got close to the town in Idaho, the two of us crouched on the floor in the back of the car, concerned, for their sake, that someone might see us with them before they reached their children. They drove us to the home of friends who had already left Francis's group previously, who graciously welcomed us to stay in their home for a few days, and even generously lent us the use of their car.

Our Los Angeles friends were going to pick up their children and head home, while the two of us were going to stay behind for a few days, and then take the train back. Our first stop was the center, where my friend stuck her foot in the door and they quickly slammed it, but too late. She was wearing a very solid boot of mine and she took advantage of being stuck there, telling them that Francis was ordained and consecrated by someone who was not Catholic, while they tried to talk over her, so that they would not be listening, telling her repeatedly to go away. Finally, she said, "I will, if you'll let me get my foot out of the door."  And they did.

The next day we went to the convent to pick up our things, but they wouldn't open the door to us. They were not supposed to, anyway, of course, but after the previous day's adventure, they were probably well prepared. We went to the police and asked the police officer to speak to them. The police officer did talk to them and he called to tell us to come to the convent the next day. We did, and there were our things, not on the porch, as we had guessed they would be, but in the middle of the yard in the snow.  At least we were able to get them back.

We must have shipped the belongings we retrieved, since we were taking the train. Some details are hard to remember after 45 years. Some other things are easier to remember because they were so impressive or because we retold them so many times.

We stopped by Vancouver and had a nice visit with my parents. And then we went on to the home of my missionary friend's family in Central California and stayed with her mother.  We made frequent trips to Los Angeles where we spent time with families who had left the group or who had only had a brief encounter with the group. We attended the Latin Mass of retired priests or priests who had special permission to offer it. Sometimes we attended an Eastern rite Catholic Mass, which had remained essentially unchanged.

Eventually, we both got jobs in Central California. I saved up some money and bought a car (mine had seen better days long before), and I took a few classes. Three years after that fateful summer of '71, I packed everything into my old VW Beetle and moved, by myself, to Los Angeles, where I later met my husband – a great guy - and the rest is another history, not entirely pertinent to this story.

Epilogue:

I have told this story from my own viewpoint, as accurately as I can remember. There were many other stories and many details that I have left out because it is painful to re-live that period of time. Also, there were many other happenings and details that I learned about from others, later on, but those involve other people's journeys, and they are neither my explanations to give nor my stories to tell.

Today, forty-five years later, I sometimes attend the Latin Mass in a historic church downtown that is part of our local Catholic archdiocese, especially to hear my husband sing in the choir; and I also attend the mainstream Mass at my vibrant local Catholic church.

I have come full circle back to why, when I was a teenager, I wanted to become a Catholic. Whenever I hear someone complain about the way things are done in the liturgy at this parish or that parish (whether in person or online), I like to say, "Is Jesus there? Then I'm there." 

Grace by Natashia Deón - A Book Review

I will never be the same. That's what popped into my head when I finished reading this award-winning, best-selling book.

It's genius. To me, it ranks with the writings of Dickens and Rowling for characterizations and surprises, and for following the lives of multiple people.

The book, Grace, is set before, during, and after the Civil War, not on battlefields but in the lives of the people, primarily a slave girl and her family, and those who come into their lives. The characters are complex, nuanced individuals.  

For those considering what ages might be appropriate for reading the book, just know that there are mature topics throughout, such as prostitution and gambling, murder and rape.

For me, the themes of character growth, love, and heroism counterbalanced the look into the dark side of humanity, and left me feeling satisfied as I finished the story. 

Grace by Natashia Deon

Book Review - Word by Word: Slowing Down with the Hail Mary

Have you ever picked up a spiritual book, opened it, and said, "I ought to read this"?  I have; but this is not that book. There was no ought about it. As soon as I started, I didn't want to stop…except that I wanted to write this review on the Feast of Our Lady of the Rosary so - for that reason only - I took a break.

Even though each part is written by a different person, each part that I've read so far has been equally engaging. As the title indicates, each of many authors takes one word from the Hail Mary to write about. Who would have thought that reading about the word "of" or the word "the", for example, would be inspiring? And yet it is! These are highly accessible, very real, short spiritual essays.

I look forward not only to reading all of it, but also to reading each essay again and again. I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to preview this book, and although I thought I was getting to read a book for free, I am now looking forward to buying the paper copy to add to my little library. Thank you to the writers and especially the editor, Sarah Reinhard, for making this book happen. 

You can order the book, which comes out October 16th, here:

From Amazon

or here:

From Barnes and Noble

Chop, Chop -- Book Review

A Review of the Book, Chop, Chop, by L. N. Cronk, currently available for free as a Kindle book.

I just finished crying over this book. At least I think I finished. It was a satisfying cry.

I loved this book all the way through, and I can't tell you how rarely that happens.

Who would have thought a 60 year old woman would enjoy a book that starts from the viewpoint of a preschool boy and follows him through to young adulthood? But it was simple, yet captivating. The conversations, the characterizations; all of it made me feel like I was right there, enjoying the friendships of these young people and of their families. Religion is an integral part of the story - it is called contemporary Christian fiction - but the religion comes through in a natural and caring way.

Throughout the book there is a tension, the knowledge that the book is leading inexorably to both love and tragedy. The tragedy might have been too much for me even a year ago. When it came, it did bring me to tears of sorrow; but as I continued to read, I was brought again to tears of joy.

Book Review of The Warmth of Other Suns

Book review of: The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration, by Isabel Wilkerson

How often do you find a book that is both gripping and eye-opening, both broad and narrow?

This book gives a vast overview of the 20^th century migration of black people from the south to the north and west, while taking a closer, deeper look at the lives of three specific individuals.

I could hardly put the book down until I had finished reading it. Even after I finished reading, it stayed with me. When I think of a particular fast foods place, I always think of what I read there one rainy evening, the story of a doctor's long drive to Los Angeles, as he drove through states where he thought he would be treated a little better, only to find that no motel would let him spend the night. 

I came away from my reading with a deeper understanding of some of the history in America, as well as some background to the history we continue to make today. 

This was an unforgettable read. 

A Book Review Template You May Copy (if you'd like)

I used to spend days writing long book reviews, trying to get it "just so", while feeling the need to "sell" the book that I was sold on. Sometimes I got hung up just trying to get started, looking at the blank screen, wondering where to begin. I often fell short of my own expectations.

One day, I noticed that I was writing very few book reviews anymore. I realized the reason: I was making it too big a project! So I made myself a template of questions, or writing prompts.

Now when I want to write a book review, I go to my template; go to Save As; add the name of the book to the title, for my new file; and then I begin answering some of the following questions.

I don't answer all of the questions! Probably, that would make the review way too long. But it would also be overwhelming, which is the opposite of the reason for the questions. 

For any particular book, I pick and choose a few of the questions, as answers pop into my head. Then I frame my answers into sentences and arrange them into one or more paragraphs. 

Here are my questions (my book review template):

Did you like the book? How much? Would you recommend it?

Are there one or two things that you liked best about the book?

If it's a fiction book, would you like to briefly share something about the story, being careful not to give away anything important? Would you like to share something you liked about a character or about the message, again not spoiling anything for the reader?

If it's a non-fiction book, have you used any of the information or advice?  Would you like to share a line or two? Or tell something about what is covered in the book?

Why did you read the book? Were you glad you read it? If yes, why?

Would you recommend it to others?  Why? To whom would you recommend it?

If I'm still feeling stuck:
What different words or short phrases describe the book or the topic, or the tone of the author? Make a list. 

(After making the word list, I come back to some of the questions again, perhaps after taking a break to do something else. And then, I see if a few of the words in the list might help me get started with answering some of the questions, which it does.)

After coming up with this template, I have been able to review five books in about a month, which is about ten times more than my average had been. Not that I'm in any contest to write lots of book reviews! It's just that I had fallen behind on books I really wanted to share. 

One thing I remind myself now is that my review doesn't have to be perfect or even profound to post it. That desire to be perfect or profound hangs us up in lots of areas of life, doesn't it?

If you, too, sometimes find that the desire to get it perfect or profound holds you back, or that you are looking at a blank screen, please feel free to copy and paste this template - the words in italics - to help you overcome that writer's block. 

It is my gift to you.

Happy New Year!  

You can read my Amazon reviews here. 

Book Review of Simplified Writing 101: Top Secrets for College Success

What a delightful book this is to prepare students for college writing! (Simplified Writing 101: Top Secrets for College Success)

The author writes in a friendly manner. She explains everything, starting with the difference between her conversational writing style in this book and the academic writing style used in college.

I don't like to bore you because the author never does. But in case you would like to know what's included, she covers: word choice, sentences, paragraphs, punctuation, grammar, structure and form, revision, the final product, and even submitting and communicating with professors.

As an English professor herself, she knows her stuff. But in addition to that, she knows how to present it in ways that are clear, positive, and actually enjoyable.



Simplified-Writing-101-Secrets-College-ebook

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.

Focus by Ingrid Ricks -- A Book Review

A Book Review of Focus by Ingrid Ricks

How might it feel to go to get glasses, pick out your favorite frames on the way in to the ophthalmologists’ office, and then to find out that your field of vision is so small that you are legally blind?  To learn that glasses won’t help? To learn it is a progressive disease?

Find out how Ingrid Ricks felt when she received this devastating news. Find out how she got her positive perspective back. Find out what life is like with Retinitis Pigmentosa…and what she is doing about it.

Ingrid Ricks tells it like it is, making it all so real you feel like you are right there. At times, we might go down to the depths with her but, as always, she brings us back up to the positive, optimistic place that characterizes her writing.

As a mother with two sons who had sudden vision losses, I remember looking for books – any books - on the subject of vision loss, and coming up short. At that time, there was basically nothing I could find. I wasn’t looking for a book that explained the technical details or for a book specific to my sons’ condition. I just wanted something, anything on the subject. Finally, someone wrote one of those books I had been looking for.

But even if you don’t know anyone with vision loss, or maybe even more so in that case, this book can help you to see life through someone else’s eyes. 

You can get the book through Amazon here. 

Book Review of The Catholic Baby Name Book

Whether you are looking for a first name, a middle name, or a confirmation name, you will find the names of many well-known saints in this book, as well as a plethora of saints whose names and stories you have probably never heard.

For example, have you ever heard of 20^th-century Spanish St. Ceferino, who was uneducated but became a catechist and city councilman? Did you know there was actually a third century Italian bishop named St. Autonomous? And yes, the name does mean self-governing.

When I used to hear the name “Olympia”, the capital city of my home state, I thought of Greek gods. But it turns out there is a St. Olympia. She was born in the Ukraine. And although I don’t see the book mention some common nicknames such as Peggy for Margaret, I was fascinated to learn that there was a St. Pega, a hermitess, who once cured a blind man while she was attending her brother’s funeral.  

The Catholic Baby Name Book gives you the meanings behind the names of many saints, as well as the countries of origin, brief stories about the saints, and multiple spellings.

You can also find out the top 100 names in the US since 2011; the most popular Catholic names by decade since the sixties; a list of recently canonized saints; and resources for finding more names, stories, and information. 

*****

You can buy the book from  the publisher, Ave Maria Press, or from Amazon, or from Barnes and Noble. Enjoy!

Math Rescue Kit - Book Review

I'm a nontraditional college student. I have 60 years of life experience; I'm a writer; and I homeschooled my six children and prepared them all for college. However, past the seventh-grade level, they learned math from their dad and, later, from some excellent computer-based, self-teaching materials. I've never been a "math person".

But to achieve the associate's degree that I am now pursuing, I will need three math classes...that is, after I get through the two "developmental" math classes that I tested into (high school level math for college students). And how am I even going to pass those first two classes? Well, I signed up for my first class, and, first of all, we have a good text; we use the MyMathLab computer program for homework; and I have a great teacher. But still, I needed a little more! So, secondly, I bought the Math Rescue Kit. Okay, you've heard enough about me, and now you want to know something about the book, right?

Dr. Porr divides the book into three parts: Attitude and Perspective, Before Class Begins, and Power Techniques. Each part is equally important, but it's not like you have to master everything in the book before you begin. Each of these three parts has various principles. Each principle or idea is helpful, but you don't have to use all of them to benefit. The tips that help you the most might not be the same as the tips that help me the most. Maybe someone's favorite tip might be "Look for a Metaphor" or someone else's favorite suggestion might be to "Join or Create a Study Group". My personal favorite is this one: "Pursue Mastery, Not Just Completing Assignments". Every single new math lesson that I pursue is a challenge for me (and he addresses that, too); but as I keep pursuing mastery with each new lesson, I finally "get it"...and I'm getting good grades. Most of all, I've learned that: "I can learn math!"

A Review of Little Saint Therese by Cay Gibson

I am feeling very honored by the  review of Little Saint Therese, written by Cay Gibson, author of Catholic Mosaic, Christmas Mosaic, and A Picture Perfect Childhood.

You can read her review of the Little Saint Therese book at her blog, Cajun Cottage Under the Oaks. 

Thank you so much, Cay!

Montana Sky Christmas: A Sweetwater Springs Story Collection - Book Review

These short stories contain enough conflict to pull you in and keep the storyline moving along, yet they come to wholesome resolutions that made me smile in surprise or cry with joy.

Debra Holland's characters come to life, whether they are being mean or resourceful, unkind or endearing. The characters of one story often interact with characters of a previous story. Although each story in this collection is very different, you keep reading about old friends.

Whether for Christmas time or any time you want to fill your mind and heart with something wholesome, I highly recommend you read these stories.

My Peace I Give You -- Book Review

As a Catholic adult who was sexually abused as a child, I pre-ordered My Peace I Give You, waiting eagerly to receive it. To say I was not disappointed would be an understatement. If you are a Catholic who was sexually abused as a child, this book is for you. Even if you were not, if you have suffered from other abuse or neglect...indeed, whatever you suffer, there is much that you, too, can learn from this book. And if you are close to someone who was sexually abused as a child, it will give you a greater understanding.

It took me nearly fifty years to understand that my having been sexually abused as a child affected me in more ways than one. Dawn Eden explains, offering both affirmation and hope. She speaks of one man suffering also from his "family's failure to provide him with protection"...and she speaks of our need as children for belonging and identity...and of "the lonely sense of isolation that is the result of having one's self-image disfigured by abuse".

Dawn applies her knowledge of theology and the lives of the saints to the suffering we have in our own lives in ways that I hadn't understood in my forty plus years of being a committed Catholic. Even though I already knew many of the saints whose stories she included, she presented them with fresh clarity and insight.

Dawn does not minimize either our past suffering or the effects of past abuse, as she shares her story and the stories of saints with delicacy and compassion. Yet, at the same time, she shows us God's great love and how he heals us through our wounds.

My emotions in reading this book were relief in understanding more clearly, and overall, a sense of hope and joy.



If you find this review helpful, you can vote that you do, at Amazon reviews, if you'd like.

A Picture Perfect Childhood - Book Review

A Picture Perfect Childhood is a beautiful, wholesome book which is so much more than a book full of lists, as Cay Gibson shares with us, in her unique style, the value of sharing picture books with our children of all ages. Lots of great reviews have already explained why this is such a wonderful book of books. So I would like to just share two areas which are dear to my own heart, reading challenges and cultural diversity.

Among her many and varied lists, Cay Gibson includes a section for Teenage Readers, explaining why picture books work for them, along with a list of a dozen books, specially chosen for them. She also has a section for Struggling Readers, with seven books about learning to read.

What I find most exciting about the book are the many lists involving cultures within our own country, as well as in other countries. The Black History section features 52 books, along with 23 books listed under Underground Railroad. The Immigration section lists 45 books and Indian Lore 43. There are 33 books listed under China. There are lists for various countries, as well as for each of our states.

Christmas Around the World includes 16 books. Around the World and Beyond with Cinderella, which is a list of 34 books, features Cinderella stories from Africa, Appalachia, and the Caribbean; Cajun, Irish and Mexican Cinderella stories; and many more.

Whatever your interests and those of your children, this is a book you will want to read, take with you to your library, and even make notations in for future reference. Cay has done the work for us, so that all you have to do is select some of the books from the library or bookseller, and then take 15 minutes a day for “enhancing your child’s imagination and education”.

A Catholic Woman's Book of Prayers - Book Review

I am very happy I had the opportunity to review this gracious book of short meditations, prayers, and scripture verses. So much more than “just” a prayer-book, A Catholic Woman’s Book of Prayers is a not only a book of prayerfulness, but also an affirmation of the value of each one of us as a woman, and a collection of lovely nuggets of wisdom. Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle shares snippets of stories of herself and those she knows, as well as original inspiring short prayers, and quotations from saints. The book is both universal and specific in scope, with many balanced and uplifting thoughts for you to ponder.

Even with only a little time on hand, a busy woman – whatever her state in life - can find much fruit in the pages of this little book, a book that may fit in your purse or coat pocket at only 4 1/4 by 6 1/4 inches. With a pretty hard cover, it will make a nice gift, as well. I found there are prayers and reflections I want to return to frequently, so I wrote their page numbers in pencil inside the back cover. This is a book you will want to use and to treasure.

Review of Zane Grey's New Book: Union Pacific

How can Zane Grey have a "new book", since he died in 1939? His family, or his trust, has published his original, unedited manuscript of a book published in 1918.

This epic story barely falls short of Hawaii by James Michener and A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens.

Zane Grey's first historical novel brings romance and adventure to the building of the railroad across America, but also reveals the vices and intrigue that went along with it. I haven't read the 1918 version, The UP Trail, but I have read many of his other western stories. This original manuscript of historical fiction neither presents Grey's usual "super-heroes" nor does it give you "feel-good" romance. It does leave you eventually with an impression of abiding love and heroic perseverance through difficulties.

Like Charles Dickens, Zane Grey creates memorable characters, life-like people with full-bodied personalities who display weaknesses and strengths.

Unlike Michener's Hawaii, Union Pacific is not cosmopolitan. It focuses primarily on American white men. Although the Sioux Indians are, of course, enemies, the author shows us a brief glimpse of their perspective. But he gives only a passing nod to the black men and Chinese men who contributed to this great enterprise. Most of his white men are "no saints", but his interpretation of his Spanish villain Durade rankled me. I got the feeling that the author wanted us to believe Durade was villianous because of his Spanish blood. In further reflection, he may have meant that was the type of European who often came to the American West. If this were his thinking, I wish it were more clear.

The apparent prejudice toward white men is my only misgiving in recommending this book as fascinating historical fiction for adults and mature young adults.

Catholic Prayer Book for Mothers

Beautiful enough for your coffee table, yet small enough for your purse, this little book is a treasury of uplifting thoughts - and prayers to lift us up.

Each page is beautiful, both in content and eye appeal.

Included are snippets of Scripture, wise words of Pope John Paul II, gems from Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, and brief quotes from other saints as well. The author speaks from her heart to inspire us to the beauty and wonder of motherhood and help lift our minds and hearts to God.

The author - Donna-Marie Cooper O’Boyle - was a friend of Blessed Mother Teresa. Mother Teresa gave her blessing to her writing of the Catholic Prayer Book for Mothers, which was published in 2005 by Our Sunday Visitor.

Donna-Marie has also written a number of other books, including Prayerfully Expecting, The Heart of Motherhood, and Catholic Saints Prayer Book. Her newest books are Grace Café and The Domestic Church.

To order any the books, or read more about them, you can visit her official website or either of her blogs, Daily Donna-Marie, or Embracing Motherhood. Scroll down and look on the left hand column to order any of her books.