Allelulia🙏🏻☀️

                           

    When peaceful silence lay over all, 

and night had run the half of her swift course, down from the Heavens, 

from the Royal Throne leapt your all powerful word.

                         (Wisdom 18:14-15)

Beautiful Kathleen.❤️

                  ‘Those whose hearts are pure are the temples of the Holy Spirit’. (St. Lucy)

Kathleen, deemed unfit for purpose, evicted from her own home while still quite young to be reared and cared for by staff in St.Finian’s Pschiatric Hospital. Many folk in Kathleen’s locality had no inkling Kathleen ever existed until she passed away. Kathleen was revealed at her own funeral, shocking to the core.

Kathleen and I met when I worked in the high support hostel where she resided in her later years. At that time she was almost eighty years of age. It took quite a while for her to trust me, moody and angry, high wall around her, always alone. God only knows how she must have suffered up and down the long years. 

Glacially, Kathleen did begin to warm to me and I was over the moon. ‘Is it you who’s here today’, she would say smiling, obviously pleased that I was working on that particular day. 

Fiercely independent, Kathleen did her work with pride, setting  tables and cleaning up after everyone else. Sadly, for Staff members, I saw little warmth from any of them towards Kathleen, even less gratitude. Kathleen, however didn’t notice or care. She expected nothing and so was never disappointed.

One day, another client asked if it was Good Friday today and I replied  -  ‘Yes, Jesus died on the Cross for all of us’. Kathleen looking out the window uttered sharply - ‘I don’t believe a word of it’.  Jesus smiling sadly, whispered knowingly  - ‘No wonder’. Jesus knew only too well what Kathleen had suffered at the hands of unkind uncaring folk.

Fr.Leo Clifford rip. told a story about a District Nurse who worked very hard and the doctor told her: ‘I’m going to ask for a raise for you - God knows you deserve it’. The nurse replied, ‘If God knows, that’s all that matters because I’m doing it all for Him’. God had His eyes on dear Kathleen too.

I had the sublime privilege of praying ‘The Chaplet of Divine Mercy’ at Kathleen’s bedside the day she breathed her last. At that time, I did not possess the deep realisation of the Sacredness, Beauty & Gravity of death. I had no idea that there was no roof in Kathleen’s room that day, and Heaven had no floor. All of us together in one Sacred Sacrosanct Space. 

Nowadays I realise it deeply, each time I am privileged to pray with folk as they take leave of this world. Thank you from my deepest heart, Kathleen, I gleaned many gems from our beautiful friendship. Because of you, I know who God is.

‘The worst disease is not leprosy, but the loneliness of not being wanted, being left out, being forgotten.’. (St. Mother Teresa)

‘How many times do kings and queens allow themselves to be tricked into letting their pride reach the skies and their egos touch the clouds, when in the end they’re as forgotten as a pile of cow manure!’             (St. Clare of Assisi)

Dublin can be heaven.....🌠

                           ‘Make visible what without you might never be seen’. (Robert Bresson)

Heuston Station buzzing, euphoric revellers making the most of the Christmas madness. Pretty girls on a large stage wearing loud ‘Merry Christmas’ T- shirts. Music blaring, prizes to be won, tons of fun to be had by all.

Tucked in a corner Bobby stood stately as he played Leonard Cohen’s ‘Allelulia’ on a piano. Beautiful, no audience, he didn’t seem to need one. I offered him a Miraculous Medal, he accepted with a smile. ‘Do you ever pray’, I asked. ‘When I need to’  he replied. We shook hands and parted.

Outside Heuston Station a man walked erratically in my direction. My first thought to avoid him, seemed like the most shrewd thing to do, instead, I asked if he would like a Miraculous Medal. ‘I would love one’, he replied, kissing the medal reverently, his cheerful smile veiling more than a hint of sadness. ‘You have lovely teeth’, he said, as he danced or stumbled away from me. I was reminded of something I read recently - ‘Smile, sunshine is good for your teeth’. I was glad we met.

Grafton Street in festive mood, high spirits, glamour extraordinaire, flashy and insipid. She was crouched down on the cold cement, scantily clad, a paper cup in her frail freezing hand. She looked so young. As I placed money in her cup and handed her a miraculous medal, her pretty face lit up with the most heavenly smile. ‘Jesus loves you’, I told her. ‘He will help you, just ask Him’. Much later, I glanced in her direction not expecting her to recognise me in the madding crowd. To my immense delight she waved knowingly. I was overjoyed and now she will remain forevermore in my heart and prayer. In a most unlikely setting, we made a beautiful connection and now we are both richer. That’s life!

The gratitude and happiness of folk when I offer them a Miraculous Medal or Rosary beads touches my deepest heart every time, oftentimes they are moved to tears. Almost always, the money I gift takes second place. No doubt about it, there is indeed a deep hunger in all of us for God, a yearning for something beyond. A gaping hole that only God can fill.

Back home again with my gentle folk in the quiet of the Nursing Home, two very different environments yet fundamentally the same. We, all of us, have a deep need to be loved, to be seen. A kindhearted word and gesture, a helping hand in time of trouble are the only diamonds really worth getting  and giving. 

Observing glamorous folk almost tripping over a man in a sleeping bag on the pavement moved me to tears. They didn’t look down, if they did, they saw nothing. Man’s inhumanity to man. Folk dropping  money in a homeless person’s cup without even a sideward glance really upset me too. A simple hello, or even a nod would suffice, it costs so little to be nice. 

Next time I will be super organised for my stroll around Dublin, meeting and greeting my faceless, nameless sisters and brothers lost in plain sight on inhospitable pavements. We will exchange our tales of weakness, woes and wonder. We will drink coffee and devour Danish pastries. Saint Mother Teresa tells us that we find Christ in the distressing disguise of the poor. She should know, truth has a ring to it!

‘If you want God to hear your prayers, hear the voice of the poor. If you wish God to anticipate your wants, provide those of the needy without waiting for them to ask you’. (St. Thomas of Villanova)

                    ‘God and the poor await us, side by side’. (Mother Mary Alphonse: Servant of God)

Sunday morning coming down.🙏🏻🌸

Sunday morning in our family home forever etched in my deepest heart. Dad awake bright and early, preparing our genial pony Nellie to ferry us to Holy Mass in the little country Church five miles away. Mom too, preparing breakfast. Us children, super excited, donning our specially reserved Sunday best. Party atmosphere for sure 🎉 

Ours a humble cart, affluent neighbours travelling by horse and trap. They sure did seem a lot more upmarket than we were, comfier too possessing colourful snug rugs, while we rested on old coats. However, I do not recall ever feeling envious or disgruntled with our lot. We were appreciators not critics, as Sister Wendy declared, when she was being denigrated by the ‘real’ art critics.

Journey home, relaxed affair, Dad smoking his first cigarette of the day. He would never ever smoke a cigarette before he received Jesus in the most Holy Eucharist. Loyal Nellie meandering along, sedately, slowly, as we children sang all the way. Luminescence and sublimity in the ordinary.🎆

What a wondrous legacy bequeathed to us by our dear parents. They handed on the luminous light of Faith in simplicity and loving kindness, weaving it beautifully into our lives in gentle fashion. We owe them a colossal debt of gratitude.

Many years later, my little granddaughter Saoirse, gazing on this precious photograph, uttered; ‘Nan, you are in a Carriage’. Mom and Dad, smiling in Heaven, agreed wholeheartedly - Yes, to all and sundry it may have resembled a humble cart but to all of us, it was and forever shall be a Carriage. From the mouths of babes🌸

‘Real goodness is always simple. Simplicity is so attractive and so profitable, that it is strange that so few people are really simple’. (Leo Tolstoy).

‘Godliness with contentment is great gain, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world’. (1Timothy 6:6-7)

Today, 21/3/2023, St. Anne’s Holy Rosary. Mrs.O Brien, deep in Alzheimer’s (neighbour from our childhood) began singing a song: ‘Her eyes they shone like diamonds’ before declaring: ‘Pony and cart!! And you all sang all the time. We could hear you coming afar off’. 

Singular moment of sublime grace from God. What joy☀️🙏🏻

Sacred space.🌸

‘It is always springtime in the heart that loves God’. (St. John Vianney)

Rosie replete with the fullness of life, self sufficient, as she sleeps soundly in her cozy chair. It seems such a paradox -  How could Rosie be self sufficient and yet so helpless?  Life is a circle and when one lives life as Rosie has done, there’s a sense of completion and fulfilment. The harvest is gathered in, the story told. Now her time of peace and fulfilment, autumn’s golden days. We glorify God by accomplishing the work He has given us to do and Rosie has done just that. 

Holy Rosary begins, the Day-Room comes to life. I am humbled constantly with the response from my beautiful folk, to the unaware eye they are all sleeping soundly but once we begin everyone is singing.

Rosie calls out her decade, animated and happy. This hour of prayer and song will keep her with us for a time and when it is over, she will return to her safe haven in her heart. As Thomas Merton wrote: ‘Now I am grown up and have time for nothing but the essentials’.

To be in this Sacred Space is a little piece of Heaven, in my wildest dreams I could not have imagined my life journey would lead me here. Stumbling upon wonder is walking with Christ.

‘Always be close to Jesus, that’s my life plan’. (Saint Carlo Acutis)

One time when I realised I had abandoned some object yet again and was looking everywhere for it, I complained to Rosie: ‘I am such a clown Rosie’. She replied gently: ‘Oh no dear, don’t talk about yourself in that fashion. Others will be more than happy to do it for you’.

Sage words I pass on to many💎. Only this morning, I complimented a lady on how well she was looking. Her reply: ‘I have gained weight’. Prime opportunity to offer Rosie’s wonderful wisdom. The lady smiled, appreciating every wise word.☀️

Gentle Giant Pat.❤️

Pat was a resident in the High Support Hostel where I worked for a time. Tall silent gent and apart from 'Thank you' whenever I served his meals, he spoke no word. Pat was well accustomed to being ignored and overlooked, he knew no warmth from staff, in fact they were wary of him. 

Pat struck out at a fellow client one time who pestered him for a cigarette yet again, and so he was deemed dangerous. He spoke no word in his own defence, he didn’t expect to be listened to and he was probably right! Pat was fragile, beautiful, and deeply hurt by uncaring unaware folk up and down the long years.

With the passage of time, Pat began to trust me, we never had any long conversations but we were happy to be in each other’s company. When the High Support Hostel closed, Pat got his very own apartment, he had carers but he lived independently. I got to witness his delightful smile for the first time ever, gentle Pat was happy and free. When I asked where his sunshine smile had been hiding all this time, he whispered: ‘I don’t know’. 

I saw him out walking with his two Carer ladies one day, ladies walking ahead chatting and laughing, Pat trailing along behind slowly, ignored as always. Carer ladies sadly missing out on a golden opportunity of a lifetime.

Last time I met Pat, I gifted him cigarette money. Pat’s gift to me - his delightful brand-new smile brighter than a thousand suns. Last words we exchanged on this earth: ‘Will you pray for me Pat’ - ‘I will’.

Pat died unexpectedly that night, God rest his gentle soul. Next day, when I heard the sad news, I wrote in my journal:  ‘Last night, Pat died suddenly, unnoticed by everyone but God. No one saw Pat leave this world, everyone saw him arrive in the next’.

Pat had the last place in this world and now he has a high place in Heaven. ‘He casts the mighty from their thrones and raises the lowly’. (Luke 1:52)

Thank you Pat for gracing me with your presence and so much more, you are forever in my heart. Because of you, I know who God is.

‘One has not lived in vain who learns to be unruffled by loss, by gain, by joy, by pain’.
 (Angelus Silesius)

‘Some people feel the rain - Others just get wet. (Bob Marley) ☔️

I love walking in the rain, feeling of newness, being washed clean. I love the criss/cross streams on the road, little rivulets going about their business. No wonder the Indians call rain ‘Liquid Sunshine’

I keep it to myself, my love affair with rain, and with very good reason. It rains a lot in this place and  conditions are oftentimes nigh impossible for the poor farmer. It can be burdensome too for folk who desperately need light and heat to keep their mood upbeat and positive. Then there are those who love to gripe and so the persistent rain is a useful tool to keep themselves miserable.

Growing up in the country, I whiled many wonderful hours away with my beautiful Dad. After God and before my boys, he was my most favourite person and best influence for good in my life. Dad was a simple fisherman/farmer - simple in the most wonderful way. He loved the sea - ‘One must always respect the sea’, he would say. 

He loved interesting conversations where he gleaned wisdom from someone older and wiser than himself and he loved to pass it on to us, his children. He loved nature and I fondly remember walking in the rain by his side. With Dad the mundane was always magical. ‘Never be without your Holy Bible, Atlas and Dictionary’, he would tell us and to this day my ancient atlas is on my bookcase. My Holy Bible is my treasure. My dictionary is never too far away. 

I remember clearly, Dad gutting mackerel and pollack, lots of them, at our humble kitchen table, late into the night and suddenly shouting with glee - ‘The one I’ve been waiting for’. Us children, filled with curiosity, shouted ‘Why that one, Dad’ and his reply: ‘The last one’, relieved in his terrible tiredness.

Then one day, I learned that I had won a scholarship to a Boarding School in another county. My Dad dearly valued education and wished, with all his beautiful heart, for us, his children, to enjoy what he never had. I understood that very well but the thought of leaving home filled me with a deep painful loneliness. ‘Will you go Bridge’, he asked. ‘I would miss you too much Dad’, I replied. I didn’t go, I attended Secondary School in our local town instead.

My Dad lived five years more, the length of time I would have been in Boarding school. Without a shadow of a doubt I made the right decision and I am so grateful to him for accepting it. I learned more about life just by being near my wonderful Dad than I could ever have learned from the most eminent mentor. Dad had a degree in simplicity, kindness and wonder, he possessed humility and nobility. 

Nowadays, as I spend valuable time with my beautiful folk in St. Anne’s Nursing Home, I am super grateful to God for my life, surrounded and loved by folk who don’t just talk the talk - they walked the walk every step.

Today is your forty fifth Anniversary, dear Dad. You didn’t die, you never will. You live forever in my heart and with God in Heaven.

‘He taught me the things that every child should know, things about gardens - how to plant and sow.

 A love of walking, striding stick in hand, down the green ways of Nature’s Wonderland’.

 (To my Father - Patience Strong)

He had no great possessions. With wealth he was not blessed. No riches for his children, but this was his bequest: he left them all the glories of dawn and sunset skies, the woods, the brooks, the meadows, birds, bees and butterflies. The salt wind on the marshes, the blossom on the tree, the flowers, the fruit, the sunshine. This was his legacy’. (Patience Strong)