Merry Christmas Everyone!

"And so this is Christmas and what have you done?
Another year over, another just begun" (John Lennon)

I love this time of year - I admit I'm captivated by all the trimmings and I am out there with every other shopper crossing names off my list. But I also love this passage from the Grinch :

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold on the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so?
"It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags!
And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.
Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"

In an age of excess and abundance where big is better, it's the quiet moments that have meant the most to me. For me, these revolve around family and a few close friends. Here they are, in no particular order :
making Christmas cookies with my grand niece - they aren't perfect but they are flavoured with love
a moonlight tour of a old village with someone dear to me
holding hands in the winter moonlight
a photo with Santa with my 2 old friends
a late-night fire, a Christmas tree, and Frank Sinatra singing in the background
a trumpet and drums during midnight mass with surprise company
visiting with my Aunt and hearing stories about my dad I never knew
watching White Christmas with my sister and singing "Sisters" along with Rosemary Clooney and Vera Lang
having my grand niece home from the hospital
being invited to a family Christmas dinner in Brantford
a little bear photograph
2 homemade gifts to me - one made of wood, the other on paper

No, Christmas doesn't come from a store but is a little bit more. What makes Christmas special are those moments given and received with love. Sharing, giving, kindness, remembrance, family, friends, hope, peace, friendship. These are the true gifts of Christmas and I have been richly blessed. They are the gift of the Magi. Merry Christmas to all!

Miss M.

A Path Re-Visited - St. Agatha's RC Church, St. Agatha, Ont. Nov. 21, 2010

Today, on a late fall morning, we revisted St. Agatha RC Church. We had missed each other on our previous attempt to visit this church (see earlier entry for Sept. 12th 2010) and wanted to come back for a second look. Sometimes, if you are very lucky or perhaps very blessed, life grants you a second chance. I think the moment was right to attend this church. Unknown to us, we had chosen a special day for our second visit - the occasion when all the grade 8 students declared their desire to be confirmed in the Catholic faith. It was clear that special care and preparation was taken with this mass as leaders helped guide the young congregants. Interestingly, the sermon focused on Christ as a leader and what we can learn about leadership from that model. I'm sometimes struck by how themes sometimes repeat in a week - no less than 2 days ago I talked with my grand niece about leadership by example when she told me the story of befriending a little girl in her class treated unkindly by her peers and my mind couldn't help connecting the two events. The grade 8 students concluded the mass by singing in clear and pure voices about standing up for the weak and persecuted and I thought again about leadership. God grant me the strength of a child. It was a memorable and moving service and we are richer for having attended.
Miss M.

Paris November 2010

Sunset Salute To The Fallen Comrade

Canadians Juno Beach Landing

O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.

With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!

From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

-Robert Stanley Weir

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

- John McCrae








November 11 2010

In honour of the countless men and women who have given the ultimate sacrifice to preserve our well being and freedom, thank you. We have but one day a year that we as a nation collectively pay tribute to the veterans that are still with us and in solemn reverence remember those who have fallen in battle. Our nation is free in whole due to the actions of armed forces who have defended our borders and our way of life. Without their selfless struggle Canada and the present world would be different today.

For those of us that believe that war is cruel and avoidable should save their opinions for the UN bargaining table where peace talks fail on an hourly basis and furthermore tip your hat to the farm boys that were dumped on the beaches of Normandy on a fateful day in June '44.The images of war do not necessarily reflect our nation's present day mindset but begs the question , who will defend our shores if a real threat ever arose again?

Thank you to all the soldiers past and present for bearing arms for the nation you defend and the flag you salute.

Lorne

Sacred Heart, Paris, Ont. Part Deux

Today we made a much promised return visit to Sacred Heart Church in Paris Ontario. We had visited several weeks ago but on a Saturday and were unable to attend mass. We were both charmed by the exterior of the field stone church - the oldest we have visited at a stately 150 years and promised we would try to return for Sunday services. We honoured our promise today - the Sunday before Remembrance Day and the bright red poppies, for remembrance, were displayed in front of the altar and proudly worn by many parishioners - many dressed in black and I wished I had thought to do so too. Being a longtime student of history, I've always had a special regard for Remembrance Day when we remember and honour the men and women who served our country in times of great peril. My friend has family members who carried arms in service of our country dating back to World War I.

I was a little distracted by my thoughts of Remembrance Day but tried to focus on the interior of the church. Sacred Heart is the oldest church we have visited and I think it is perhaps the smallest as well. Both masses, however, were extremely well attended as perhaps this is the only Catholic church in the area and folks come from far and wide. Or perhaps they are simply attracted to the welcoming spirit of this church - we were heartily greeted when we approached by a tall man in a black suit with a poppy proudly pinned to his lapel. We found out later that this was the Parish Priest greeting his congregants. Father continued the entire sermon in this hearty, enthusiastic manner and I had no worry of my companion drifting off during this service (smile - that was a joke!). The pews were made of oak and numbered and well worn by the faithful over the years. The wood of the cross and buttresses was so dark it was almost black and I think dates earlier than the wooden altar and podiums - I suspect these were later additions. The plaster columns were massive and we thought we detected a slight tilt to the building as it has settled over time. But it would take more than a strong northern gale to knock this building off it's foundation. Here it was built, and here it stands.

Before we sang the final hymn, we were asked to stand and sing "O Canada" in honour of Remembrance Day. I was happy and proud to do so. While I have listened to "O Canada" played many times in my life, on TV before events or during the Olympics, I can't remember the last time I was invited to sing our National Anthem with a group of people - perhaps not since my school days now long ago. We are a modest country. Today I sang the national anthem in part to thank those men and women who fought and sacrificed here at home and overseas so we could stand in a church and have the freedom to gather and sing and pray. Such a simple thing, but such a powerful thing too.

After church we headed home and stopped in Ayr to stretch our legs and walk along a wooded path. Bridges, water, trees, blue skies. They are common themes that seem to repeat. We had a most enjoyable walk and partway through I noticed a dime on the ground. Usually it is my friend who spots the dimes - it was an old expression of his mother's that means someone is thinking of you. Or perhaps it is us who are thinking of them. Who are you remembering today?

Miss M.

"Jubliee Joy" - Oct 24, 2010

Like a lot of other parishes, my parish is celebrating a Jubilee. It's pretty young compared to many other parishes which are celebrating their 125th or even 150th anniversaries - as Sacred Heart Parish in Paris Ontario is doing. In visiting different churches it is interesting to see how the masses are unique and the ways in which they are the same. The structure and words are timeless - it's one of the appeals to me - in a world that out-paces me in change, I like the continuity and timelessness of the words and message. But much like Catholic school girls each individualize their school uniforms, each church tends to have something they try to make their own. For some, it has been reaching out to the children, others the ministries within the church and for still others it has been the music. Some play a simple organ, some several instruments, some a single voice, others many voices raised in harmony. The music in my church is a mix of all of the above plus often the piano or flute or guitar thrown in for good measure. If there is an opportunity to sing, we sing. On really joyous occasions, I feel the music vibrate inside me.

All this is by way of saying our choir has made a CD called "Jubilee Joy" that I've been listening to all week. Some songs I like to play over and over again. I get like that sometimes and even my little grand niece will comment on it - at 4 she already has definite opinions about music and will say "what is this music?" or "I like this song" or "I don't like this music!". So the two thoughts have been running through my mind and intertwining together - the words of the songs along with the people who founded the churches we have visited in the last few months.

Why do people build churches? Why do they come together? Perhaps the reasons today aren't so different from 50 years ago, or 125 years ago, or 150 years ago. Maybe we come together for a sense of belonging - in an often harsh world, there is a place where we can feel hopeful and welcomed and uplifted and inspired. I think the pioneers needed that as much as we need it today. There are many ways to feel alone in our world - maybe you are away at school and trying to fit in, or maybe you are starting a life in a new community, or maybe you have lost a beloved spouse and feel adrift or maybe someone you love has turned you away. Sometimes we all can feel like Mary and Joseph who knock at the inn door and are told there is no room for us. But we're never really alone - I've been playing this song from the CD this week that reminds me of that and today we sang it in church...one of those strange co-incidences that I'm not sure are really co-incidences at all. Here are the lyrics - if I was more techno savvy I've find a link to a performance for you but being of limited expertise, I don't know how to do that. It's the words that are the important part in any case, so for anyone who needs to hear this, it is for you :

You are Mine
by David Haas

I will come to you in the silence
I will lift you from all your fear
You will hear My voice
I claim you as My choice
Be still, and know I am near

I am hope for all who are hopeless
I am eyes for all who long to see
In the shadows of the night, I will be your light
Come and rest in Me

Chorus:Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow Me
I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine

I am strength for all the despairing
Healing for the ones who dwell in shame
All the blind will see, the lame will all run free
And all will know My name

Chorus:Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow Me
I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine

I am the Word that leads all to freedom
I am the peace the world cannot give
I will call your name, embracing all your pain
Stand up, now, walk, and live

Chorus:Do not be afraid, I am with you
I have called you each by name
Come and follow Me
I will bring you home
I love you and you are mine

Peace to you all,
Miss M.

Sacred Heart Church, Paris, Ontario - Oct. 16, 2010

This weekend we ventured into Brant County with three purposes in mind. To travel country roads and view the spectacular colours of the fall leaves, to discover Sacred Heart Church located in picturesque Paris, Ontario and to dig into family history roots. All this we proposed to undertake by travelling into beautiful Paris and surroundings. We had an early start and travelled in grand style - my friend recently retrieved his much-loved 1995 Suburban truck from the paint shop and "Jane" added extra excitement to the day. Being one of the largest and strongest vehicles on the road, nothing could obscure our view.

We arrived in Paris mid-morning under clear blue skies and drove the historic downtown main street. Paris is located where the Grand River meets the Nith River. The town was named for the nearby deposits of gypsum used to make plaster of paris. We enjoyed a "fresh-air" breakfast of hot coffee and toasted bagels sitting on "Jane's" sturdy tail-gate. Does food ever taste more yummy than when eaten outdoors? Conversation flowed freely and we teased back and forth and we looked forward to the day. Our stomachs appeased, we headed to the Paris look-out - a spot along the top of a hill that overlooks the town centre, the treed and hilled mountainous terrace and the Nith River.



Next we headed off to find Sacred Heart Church. Sacred Heart Church is the oldest Catholic church we have visited on our journey together. In 1834 a vote was taken among church elders to see where to locate a Catholic Church in Brant County - Brantford or Paris? The vote was 13-12 in favour of Paris. By 1838 a wood chapel was erected dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It was officially the first Catholic Church in Brant County. In 1857, construction of the present day Sacred Heart Church began and the first mass was celebrated Christmas Day. In 1880, construction was completed. Sacred Heart recently celebrated it's 150th anniversary - by far the oldest standing Catholic church we have visited. It's constructed entirely of field stone and the rock has stood the test of time. It is in remarkably fine condition and looks much as it would have done the day Christmas mass was first celebrated. Being the only Catholic church in the county, people would have travelled for many miles to attend this church. It looks solid but also cosy and welcoming at the same time and I can imagine people feeling warm and secure inside the stone walls after reaching their destination.

Unfortunately we visited on a Saturday so were unable to view the interior or attend mass. But this church is definitely worth a second visit and we hope to return another Sunday. Surely we will be in the area again as my friend has deep ties to Brant county and this was one of the reasons we visited the area today.

We often talk about being on a path or a journey on this blog. Many times we are referring to journey of discovering new churches and exploring our friendship. This weekend we travelled old roads from a families past, visited their resting places, photographed their homes and schools.




Sometimes to understand where we are going, it helps to look at the path that led us here. Maybe the answer lies where the one path joins another. There are many ways to honour a person. By taking time to look at their path it is like saying "your life mattered, we remember you, we see your contribution". By remembering and discovering, we travel their path too. And so the two paths become one.
Miss M

Autumn Leaves

The tracing of a soul as it wanders Mother Earth is as glimpsing as the seasons. My surname and family roots are on the list of things I would like to discover. I started out today as Autumn is set hard in Ontario and waits for Winter to relieve her of her duties. The turning of hardwood lots in the hills and valleys of Southern Ontario is a spectacle which my friend and I set out early to enjoy.

My Suburban has been in captivity for almost 2 years getting a fresh coat of paint. Pushed aside at the shop that collision work logically receives preferential treatment over rust work. My truck is all one colour, so dark green it is black and is absolutely beautiful. Being off the road for so long , the emission test was ignored and the truck's registration lapsed. There is very little future in running 2 year old fuel in any vehicle let alone one you would like to pass an emission test. Since "Jane" had a little over half a tank of fuel , that meant I had to burn over 100 litres of fuel in one weekend and having only a small block chevy to do such a feat we decided to take her on our latest outing. The windshield was cleaned in a Kitchener parking lot and then we were off and the reasons I own an old Suburban came back to me while driving Chevy's biggest wagon.

I stuck to old Ontario highways in order to see the view that the turning foliage offered and the slower pace that the single lane highways afford.We traveled down county roads from Kitchener through Ayr and into Paris. The scenes that were painted by nature's brush were ours to behold and savour being one of the last weeks of the year that these scenes will be playing out. The time of year that fall is in full bloom is one of my favourite and it is like every hardwood tree is vying for your attention and trying to out do his brethren. We stopped in Paris Ontario for a few reasons. To eat, take in the sights and visit a church that lays atop a riverbank on the East end of Paris.

Sacred Heart is a mid 19th century building constructed of fieldstone and is built well. The slate roof with it's scalloped edges and multi colour design that encompasses the steeple is truly the work of artisans. The stone work although simple has surprises of hidden detail. Numerous crosses made from off coloured stone are hidden on her outside walls. The peaked gables are adorned with stone crosses and would not have been easy for the craftsman to make. This building is nestled into a hillside on the banks of the Grand River and is celebrating her 150 th birthday. The stunted stanchions that hold her roof and clerestory up are blended in to the outside walls adding beauty to an already impressive facade. Being Saturday the church was not open we photographed the church's exterior and then headed for Brantford on oldhighway 24 south.

Coming into Mount Pleasant I could see urban sprawl and it's effect on the south of Brantford. We have the same effect in my city but this valley that is being filled up with cookie cutter houses is from my childhood and is where my dad grew up. He adored this valley and knew it's landscape well having walked and rode his bike here as a child and drove it in his car regularly. I think it would sadden him to see what a developer's vision realized looks like. This area of Brantford has been important in my family's roots since the 1800's and the reason for our journey today. Turning south we drove the old side roads, some of which have not been hampered by sprawl and the rolling landscape brought us to our destination.



We stopped and photographed the elementary school that my father and his siblings attended as children and attended the rear yard of the school ground to look at the river valley below. The autumn leaves lent to this scene and feeling good about the world and our place in it we drove across the road to Farringdon Hill Cemetery where quite a few of my ancestors are interned. My surname has quite a story and is unfolding before us . The tireless efforts of my co author of this blog in the researching of my ancestral roots is the main reason for the fantastic pace thus far. Visiting gravesides we either confirmed or corrected our information and made discoveries along the way. Taking in the solitude of our surroundings we quietly wished the departed well and then made our way into West Brantford to more research. Photographing houses and churches and even a Carnegie Library the day rolled away and before we knew it was time to head home.





Along our way we managed to fill our history pages , burn fuel in an old Chevy wagon , enjoy the vista offered up by Mother Earth and best of all spend quality time with a friend. Jane effortlessly brought us home through Galt and Blair and made us feel richer for having made this journey. I have said it before and it still rings true. "At the end of the day, all that matters is friends and family" ...so get out there and drag someone along for the ride, go solo if so inclined but enjoy it . Autumn's Bloom is out waiting for you to discover.

Monday am Jane set a new personal best on the E test dyno scoring near perfect . Time well spent.

Lorne

Thanksgiving Oct 11, 2010

Happy Thanksgiving to who ever might have stumbled on this out of the way path and be reading this quietly travelled road. Returning to my home parish once again, my dear Father Joseph preached another thought-provoking homily yesterday. Even though Thanksgiving isn't a church inspired holiday, it is a time to give thanks for the many gifts we have been given. We have stewardship over the Earth - stewardship is different than ownership - we don't hold the deed and sometimes I despair at the care we've given to this gift.

But my heart can still catch at the beauty of the clear blue sky and the coloured leaves of a fall day. I was reminded of that many times this week. The days were so beautiful - clear, crisp, fresh - and the colours so vivid and glorious - that it sometimes felt like my heart wasn't big enough to contain the feeling - that the beauty was so piercing it caused a physical catch in my chest. Have you ever felt that way? Has someone or something ever made you feel that way?

Love can make us feel that way. Sometimes it doesn't even have to be the grand life changing moments that create those feelings - sometimes it's the tiny moments. Like this week I was driving my nieces home (eight and 4) and they were quiet in the back seat so I glanced back at them and they were silently sitting holding hands - a moment so sweet it pierced my heart with a physical pain...especially since they had been squabbling earlier in the day!

What moments have you been thankful for? Small, quiet, maybe just known to you and no other or perhaps one special person. Moments that you hug close and pull out every once in awhile to look at and turn over in your mind. They are gifts that have nothing to do with money or possesions. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
Miss M.

An Old Path - Sept. 26, 2010

I was thinking about the title of our blog the other day. "An Old Path" and "a journey of two friends". As sometimes happens, we couldn't arrange a 19th century church visist this weekend - we had plans of attending "St. Patrick's" in Hamilton as we weren't able to attend mass the day we visited the church and choose to attend "Christ the King" cathedral instead - the home of the Bishop of the Diocese of Hamilton. We both wanted to return to St. Patrick's, though, because there was such a feeling of peace inside this church we wanted to experience it more fully. We couldn't make it work this weekend, but part of the fun of this expedition is planning and looking forward to the next discovery. So we'll save St. Patrick's for another day and look forward to our return.

Back to "An Old Path". After attending St. Francis church where we are closing out our 50th year Jubilee celebrations, my friend surprised me with a country drive along the old pioneer roads. The leaves are just starting to change and the ebb and flow of our favourite valley was highlighted in the ambers and yellows of fall. My friend said he wanted to drive on dirt roads and a few minutes later we stumbled upon a secluded gravel road with trees creating an umbrella of amber and yellow leaves overhead. I teased him and asked "Do you get everything you ask for?" - and then remembered the passage "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you" (Matthew 7:7).

We've been given so many things as part of this journey. We've learned about architecture, and buildings but also about faith and community and friendship and fellowship and also about our pioneer roots. I live in a city but when I drive the old roads I feel those roots call me very strongly.

We stopped at an old pioneer cemetery and read the names lovingly inscribed on the stones. Many of the stone were weather-worn and we could hardly make out the names from 150 years ago. Who stood where we stood? Who mourned these lives?

I suppose this all may seem really off topic and not have much to do with 19th century churches. But when I am out in the country with trees and the valley and open sky and glimpses of wildlife, I feel closer to God than at almost any other time. Maybe that is why I like it so much and seek it out. Einsten once said that the more he studies the universe, the more he believes in a higher power. Just like the finest watch is created by a mastercraftsman, the natural world around us seems created by a mind so sophisticated we can hardly comprehend the genius behind it. To believe it all to be random would be to believe those intricate watch parts came together by themselves or when thrown on the floor. No. A greater hand was behind the enterprise.

Maybe a greater hand is behind this enterprise too. Lead and we will follow. An old path.
Miss M.