Monday, November 15, 2010

The Robbery

I was driving from Walmart to Target on a Monday afternoon hoping to get the last of my errands done when my cell phone rang. We’d been robbed! I’d left home mid morning and #4 son stopped over around 1:30 p.m. to pick up some mail. He saw the upturned drawers on the sofa and the dominoes spilled out of the open closet door and at first thought I was reorganizing. Then he spotted the broken front window. He called the police, then called me, and waited for me to get home. I think he may have been expecting me to arrive in tears and very upset. I was grateful that he had taken charge and was prepared to pick me up off of the floor. But, I took it very calmly, thinking maybe, that we really didn’t have much of value (unless the thief was a seamstress, I have a thing about my sewing machine!)

The friendly and efficient police woman commented on my mental state also. She mentioned that usually someone in a household that has been robbed reacts with a little hysteria. Mike came home from work and was his usual calm self. But then, daughter #3 dropped by to pick up a book on her way home from work and filled the bill for a little hysteria and indignation.
We walked through the house with the two police officers. I was pleased to see I’d cleaned the kitchen that morning, but a little chagrined when we got to the bedroom to see that I’d not made our bed (a very unusual state of affairs, I must emphasize) and they were taking pictures! The drawers of my dresser were dumped on the bed and floor. The floor was strewn with baby teeth. Before the officer started to search the house for the rest of the bodies (I’ve read enough mysteries to know that’s the next step), I explained that these were merely the teeth the Tooth Fairy had recovered from under the pillows of my seven children over the years. No self-respecting, overly nostalgic Tooth Fairy would just dispose of them!

Sure enough my little Weight Watcher record books that were carefully hidden under the scarves in the right hand top drawer were strewn on the floor also. I hope our burglar looked them over carefully and whispered a grateful prayer that he hadn’t run into this bruiser on his outing! Daughter #3 remarked that our burglar had a lot of nerve tramping up the stairs past the 4 foot high statue of St. Joseph with Baby Jesus in his arms which has resided on the landing for the past 20 years. She also found it humorous that our burglar had to sort through rosaries, prayer books, holy cards and bottles of holy water to find the loot. I didn’t think we had anything of value, and to tell the truth, most of the value was in memories: the gold chain Mike gave me for our 35th wedding anniversary, my grandma’s engagement ring, the earrings daughter #2 gave me when she had barely enough money to pay her bills. All were gone, along with miscellaneous trinkets of adornment.

Several days before the incident, I’d cajoled husband Mike into taking his top bureau drawer, which burgeoning with “stuff” no longer shut completely, into the back room for some house cleaning. He’d spent a good deal of time organizing, disposing of junk and had put the drawer to right. One could now readily see just what he had and just what he treasured arranged in neat compartments. Mike’s grandpa’s old, scratched railroad watch was taken. It no longer worked and was worn smooth from his hardworking hands. We felt sad about that loss, but you know what? We had and have these wonderful people in our lives, such blessings, much better than trinkets. I don’t think, however, Mike will ever clean another drawer again.

God gave us the grace to see this whole mess as unfortunate, but not worth a minute’s worry or tears. They are just things and we can’t take them with us to Heaven. It’s funny though, every once in awhile, I will open the drawer that held my grandma’s ring and wonder if it could have somehow been overlooked by the burglar, or vacuum the floor still keeping an eye out for an item I miss. But, like so many things that intrude in our days, I have to once again lift this package of regrets up to the Lord and remind myself that it really doesn’t matter. I expect I may have to do this again and again.

So, there is good that came out of the incident. I always make my bed now. Mike no longer cleans drawers (this is a good for him only). We have been reminded that possessions on this earth are nice, but really of no value in our pursuit of Heaven. We have also been reminded once again that God loves us and protects us and has given us a sense of humor to look at this whole mess as an interesting story. I also harbor the thought that our burglar is feeling very guilty and sorry for his sins and wishes he had taken one of my rosaries instead!



Next time, maybe this?

Singing Out With the Voice God Gave Us

I’m not sure when I learned that I could not “carry a tune in a bucket” but I must have been pretty young. It was pretty well known in our family that Mary Ellen just couldn’t sing. I like to sing. It is something I just don’t do well so I truly appreciate people that sing out loud and strong.

I may have been traumatized in grade school when in second or third grade, the person sitting in the back of a row (that would be me) had to move up the row desk by desk and sing with each person, “Swinging in a swing, swinging up so high”. You can see that this affected me greatly if I can still remember the tune. High school wasn’t a great deal better. I avoided most singing, but the school song was a must, “Dear SJA” (St. Joseph’s Academy). I couldn’t make the high notes so I just worked on blending in. I’ve always been self-conscious about my singing. I sang when I rocked my babies---Peter, Paul and Mary tunes mostly--easy, mellow music. But, I only did it when no one was around and did worry a tad that my children would grow up “off-key” like their mother. Fortunately, all seven can sing fairly well, a couple of them very well indeed.

I need and am grateful for the people that sit around me in church and sing out with all of their hearts and voices. There are probably a few other people like me that are somewhat hesitant singers and need your strong voices to blend with and keep us on key. I also appreciate those gifted people that are able to “take it down an octave” when the piece is very high- pitched. I tend to squeak on high notes.

Our voices are such wonderful gifts, whether we sing well or just sing with the voice God gave us. They are beautiful musical instruments designed by the Creator to praise Him. The blending of voices filling the high places at Sunday liturgies is a delight to Him. Our songs are prayers. In them we praise our Father and sing of the wonder of His created world, offer thanksgiving to Him, ask His mercy and forgiveness. They help us to reflect on the seasons of His Holy Church.

“While the soft sweet sounds flow into the ear, says St. Augustine, divine truth should gently steal into our hearts”. (Bishop Frederick Knecht: Practical Commentary on Holy Scripture.) The hymns of our Church reflect its’ beliefs and truths. Many contain scripture passages that we will recognize as we read or study scripture. Read the Psalms of David in your Bible and search for phrases you have sung in hymns and songs. Some favorite hymns will tell a story, whisking us away to a clear, cold night in Bethlehem, perhaps.

Thank you to all of those talented musicians who sing in our church choirs. Your gift of voice is given to Him and multiplied a thousand fold as the congregation joins you in song. For those of us in the pews, as our beautiful Christmas liturgies approach, we should prepare ourselves to sing the songs of joy and praise with full voices, joining with His choirs of angels and all of His people (even those of us who are a little off key).



Alma Mater: "Dear SJA"

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Welcome to My New Blog

I'm starting this blog for all my readers to have more access to my work online. I hope you enjoy my writing!