Sister Lucia's Memoirs of Fatima

I really enjoyed reading Sister Lucia's Memoirs about Fatima. I had very low expectations, but it was surprisingly a page-turner! I loved hearing about three ordinary children's lives, in a small rural village with a very religious but simple upbringing. Lucia started tending a flock of sheep by herself when she was seven years old. When I think about today's 7-year-olds and their maturity level, this is astounding. Her family life included shared hard work, prayer and play. Every night they'd knit around the fire and sing: "Seeing as my sisters, during some of the seasons of the year, had to work in the fields during the day, they'd sew and knit in the evening. After supper and the prayer that followed, recited by my father, work would begin. Everyone had a task: my sister Maria would go to the loom; my father would fill her heels; Teresa and Gloria would sew; my mom would knit; Carolina and I, after cleaning the kitchen, were occupied by removing (tailor) tacks, sewing on buttons, etc.; my brother, to spread sleep, would play the harmonica, and we'd sing several songs. Neighbors would come, quite a few times, to keep us company and they would say that, although we didn't let them sleep, they felt happy and all their worries would go away from just watching the fun we'd have." (p. 73 Portuguese version) Lucia would take care of her neigbors' little children on her patio, while their mothers worked in the fields. She'd entertain them with games and catechesis, she'd "teach them doctrine" as she put it. She and her sisters would get dressed up from time to time and help out at dances or celebrations. I liked the way she described a cousin's wedding, where all the women of the village got together and cooked for the reception. That seems to me the way it should be, not catering and thousands of dollars spent on luxury weddings.

     Lucia's friendship with Francisco and Jacinta is most endearing. She didn't especially like them at first (they were younger), but they insisted on following her everywhere. I liked finding out that they were normal kids, reminding me that saints are human and sinners also! (Something I tend to forget...) They played just like normal kids and even fought just like normal kids. Jacinta would sulk if she didn't get her way. Instead of praying the rosary at their lunch break in the fields with their sheep, they'd say the words "hail Mary" and "our Father" on each bead so they could get right to playing.

     Of course, after the apparitions of the angel and of Mary, they prayed the whole rosary. It was very interesting to hear the story of the apparitions, how they felt afterwards, how it impacted their lives and the lives of their families. It was amazing how much they suffered: Lucia with the rejection of her family and Jacinta and Francisco with their illnesses, but how they accepted their suffering. "Some neighbors commented, one day, with my aunt and mother, after having spent some time in Francisco's room, 'It's a mystery that we can't understand. They're children like all others, they don't say anything, yet being near them you feel something different from the rest.' [...] It doesn't surprise me that people had these feelings, since they're used to finding, in everyone, only the material aspect of a short and fleeting life. Now, the mere sight of these children raises their thinking to the Mother of Heaven, with Whom they say they have a relationship; to eternity, where they see themselves going soon, so joyful and happy; to God, Who they say they love more than their own parents; and also to hell, where they say people will go, if they continue to sin. Materially speaking they are, as was said, children like all others. However, if these good people, so used to only the material aspect of life, knew how to elevate their spirit a bit, they'd see without difficulty, that in them there was something that quite distinguished them." (p. 189 Portuguese version)

    



This book had that same indescribable tone of the few saint's writings I've read. It's marked by extreme humility, and by humility I mean acceptance of one's self and conditions in life. "On these trips I didn't always find esteem and care. Next to the people that admired me and thought I was a saint, there were always others that would insult me and call me hypocrite, visionary or sorceress. It was our good God adding salt to the water, so that it wouldn't corrupt. In this way, thanks to this Divine Providence, I passed through fire without getting burned, and without getting to know that little bug called vanity that usually corrodes everything. On these occasions, I'd often think: Everyone is wrong: I'm neither a saint, as some say, nor a liar, as others say; only God knows what I am." (p. 112 Portuguese version) These memoirs are also marked by obedience to God and his Church and by a certain peace and acceptance that is difficult to explain. I DEFINITELY recommend reading this book!

JPII prays at Fatima in 1982, thanking Our Lady of Fatima
for her intercession in saving him from his bullet wound

Molting in crisis

Molt: to cast or shed (feathers, skin, etc.) in the process of renewal. (dictionary.com)

Yesterday was a liberating day. What if I told you having my hair cut was almost as important as a graduation day or winning a race? I think it was a combination of factors: not having cut my hair in a year and half, having my own money to pay for it (no feeling bad or selfish), for the first time not being intimidated due to my lack to style but being comfortable with me!

I went to Hairport, an ultra-hip place I'd gone to three years ago. It's downtown Lisbon, in a 100-year-old storeroom with modern decor. The hairdressers are German, Austrian and Spanish and they all have short hair, red or purple highlights and tattoos. It's a super cool and fashionable place. Last time I went (and usually when I go to the hairdresser), I felt super nerdy and unfashionable.

This time I was completely different... inside. I didn't try to be tough, I accepted being sweet and silly/naive. I didn't pick an ultracool hairstyle from a magazine... I said what I wanted. We both laughed at how impossible it seemed: waves and volume, even though my hair is straight. Basically, as afro/crazy/country as possible. And to my surprise? She did it! And taught me how (apparently there's this thing you can put at the end of your blow dryer called a diffuser?)

I've cut my hair and I've bought clothes before but never with the purpose I'm doing it with now. Something is different inside...

"I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of the clothes. If there is not a new man, how can the new clothes be made to fit? If you have any enterprise before you, try it in your old clothes. All men want, not something to do with, but something to do, or rather something to be. Perhaps we should never procure a new suit, however ragged or dirty the old, until we have so conducted, so enterprised or sailed in some way, that we feel like new men in the old, and that to retain it would be like keeping new wine in old bottles. Our moulting season, like that of the fowls, must be a crisis in our lives. The loon retires to solitary ponds to spend it. Thus also the snake casts its slough, and the caterpillar its wormy coat, by an internal industry and expansion; for clothes are but our outmost cuticle and mortal coil. Otherwise we shall be found sailing under false colors, and be inevitably cashiered at last by our own opinion, as well as that of mankind." (Henry David Thoreau in Walden)

HHS and a Revolutionary Church

I have a post at IgnitumToday called "HHS and a Revolutionary Church":
http://www.ignitumtoday.com/2012/02/08/hhsrevolutionarychurch/

Hope you like it!



JPII at Igreja da Encarnacao in Lisbon



A weekly picnic (now with three people), including homemade snickerdoodles!

Full gallop

That's me riding on a beautiful horse named Nesga ("little piece") this weekend! My friend was nice enough to invite me to go with her and we took a ride around the riding school. How do I ride horses and still manage to complain about my life? I manage somehow. I am coming to the conclusion I'm really spoiled. Then we went to a cafe with a beautiful ocean view and latin music. I felt like I was on a trip somewhere tropical. Finally, I went to a birthday dinner at a factory-turned-restaurante called Lx Factory in Lisbon which had a brick oven in the middle of the room and lots of rustic decoration. Even though it sounds like a dream weekend, it was pretty crazy and busy. From now on, I'd like to make my plans and time more meaningful, intentional and s...l...o...w. That's the moral of the story of my weekend.  

"In art there are neither mistakes nor touch-ups,
the beauty is in the artist."

Conclusions about weakness

I'm only posting once this week, pretty far off from my ideal of every weekday. This week didn't go as planned, it was a lot more worried/busy and less peaceful than last week. That's okay though, things don't usually go as I plan and that's a good thing. They are usually far from ideal. I've been realizing some things these past few weeks:

• I have a lot of problems. Emotional and psychological problems that prevent me from living my life as fully and happily as I'd like, and probably as God would like. This might seem basic, but it has been hard for me to come to the realization that I have just as many problems as the people I think who "have a lot of problems".
• When I forget I have problems, God will remind me.
• The game of Catholicism/life gets harder as you go progress, like any good game (as Marc Barnes from Bad Catholic puts it so well here).
• Other people know I'm not perfect and like me anyway.
• God knows I have problems. He was counting on it. He created me anyway and gives me all the gifts/responsibilities I have anyway.
• I'm the one that can't stand admitting I have problems... I have lots of pride.
• God is curing and helping me along, but it's a life-long process.
• My problems help me connect with other people that have problems.

Christopher West has a new book out! It's already on the way to my house. You can watch an two video interviews with him about it here:

http://www.thinveil.net/2012/02/interview-with-christopher-west.html

I love what he said about why he took his year-long sabbatical. He says teachers/apologists tend to think they have something really remarkable to offer, but in fact, as St. Paul says, all we have to offer is our weakness. He says he has been reflecting on his own poverty. They were really words of hope for me, especially after coming to the conclusions above. I've been confronting and trying to accept my own poverty/weakness, because that's really all I have to offer.

My basil and cabbage flower trying to survive the winter
and my lack of knowledge on how often to water them

Being Portuguese and making soup