A Worthy Cause

On May 11th and 12th, Sister Florian, our in-house creative artisan, along with several assistants, held her 5th Annual Craft Sale in the foyer of our residence. It was home to an amazing array of crafts of all kinds.

A feature of the day was a beautiful hand quilted red and white Dresden Plate quilt. It was created by Sister Florian and carried home to Windsor by a lucky winner.  A large, pink, knitted afghan made by Sister Mary was the prize for another happy lady. Other smaller quilts, runners, placemats and quilted bags were on display.  Handiwork including a variety of knitted items such as popular baby sets, socks, dishcloths, afghans, and much more.

The fireplace side of the foyer housed Sister Dorothy Ann’s fine display of books galore: novels, biographies, spirituality, poetry, crosswords, and the like.  Business was humming as staff browsed the interesting possibilities of choosing a book and settling into a favorite pastime come rest and eventide. Other items were hand crafted cards, gently used CDs, and movies.

In keeping with the spring season, Sister Ruth Anne, with her green thumb, offered a variety of plants to whet the appetite of avid gardeners.  Her sturdy tomato plants were the first ones to be snapped up by staff and guests, and taken home to their waiting garden plots.  Other plants, large and small invited beginning gardeners to purchase a begonia seedling or an already potted array of mixed flowers to try their hand at a new hobby.  Free advice was offered with every purchase.

Throughout the days, eager staff, friends, and associates enjoyed searching through the many items offered.  When the doors closed, and generous donations tallied, the bazaar realized a tidy sum to be presented to St. Joe’s Café, the new name for our soup kitchen now in its larger location downtown on Queen’s Avenue.  Once again, we realize that when many hands work together, amazing things happen.  A rousing thank you to Sister Florian, the many helpers, and our kind contributors!

-Sister Jean Moylan, CSJ

Would you like to contribute to our London soup kitchen? Click here to donate & join the giving ❣️

My Trees

Image: Unsplash/Erwan Hesry

NATIONAL LOVE A TREE DAY is MAY 16th

I never had a favorite tree.  However, I have tried to grow trees from seed.  My first attempt was at growing an orange tree from one of the seeds in the orange I was eating.  Remember when there used to be seeds in oranges?  I think it’s ironic the way we want to control everything having to do with reproduction.  Seeds in oranges are definitely an inconvenience.  But I digress.  My orange tree actually grew quite tall (about 10 cm) and then I moved and gave it up to the elements.

My second attempt at growing a tree was to take a maple seed key from Southwestern Ontario to Edmonton, Alberta to see if I could grow a tall tree there.  Unfortunately, when I put the tiny 4 cm high seedling out in the yard to get more sun, I watch a bird sit on the side of the pot and pull out the plant by the roots.

I have to laugh at myself for thinking that I am the one growing trees when really I only planted seeds and kept them moist.  It really is God who gives the increase.  It’s all part of the plan in which we can actively participate.  

-Sister Elaine Cole, CSJ

Header image: Unsplash/Simon Wilkes

Generosity of Heart: A Remote Memory

It was 1943 and I was in my senior year of kindergarten.  The Second World Was in the Netherlands was intensifying and most families were focused on safety, the basics of life such as food, shelter and the continuation of education and health care in cities not destroyed by war.

In my Kindergarten class in the mornings, we started off sitting in assigned places. Usually it was girl, boy, girl, boy. Carl Leonard sat next to me in a double seat.  The reason I remember him is because he had lots of energy and found an outlet for it by pulling as many of the girls’ braids as he could reach as well as pulling on their earrings which some girls wore. These silver earrings were usually in the shape of tiny acorns that hung down from their pierced ear lobes.  Despite Carl’s behaviour, somehow, I thought my joy would be complete if I could wear earrings.  Dealing with Carl would be a minor irritation.

Image: Unsplash/Daihana Monares

Instinctively I knew that if I asked my mom for earrings her reply would probably be that one of my ten siblings were in the line-up for such items as hand-knitted sweaters, coats, or shoes. She did not exactly state that, but I knew how the family budget worked.  Earrings were not high on the list of priorities.

I had tried several times to make the earring request to my dad, but the standard reply was “We’ll see”.

One day, somewhat like the persistent woman of the Gospel and the judge (although my case was not so much about justice), I opened the door to our store situated at the front of our house thinking that all the customers had gone.  Ordinarily this move was out of bounds for us children especially when there were customers in the store.  I saw only Dad and after pulling him down to my height I whispered in his ear once again “Could I please have a pair of earrings?”  Just as he had said “We’ll see”, I saw Mrs. B., a regular customer, whom I had not noticed, still in the store. I left, determined as ever to persist in my quest.

The following week Mrs. B came back for her weekly shopping and asked my dad if I could come to see her in the store.  What I obviously did not know and found out much later was that Mrs. B. had inquired what I had whispered into Dad’s ear the week before.  Mrs. B. showed me a tiny round box with the picture of an angel’s head on it.  When she opened the box there was a small pair of gold earrings with a coral stone in each center.  I just could not believe that such earrings existed.  My father thanked Mrs. B. and then indicated I should also do so, which I did.  Only much later did I discover that my father did compensate Mrs. B. for this gift.  What could not be compensated for was the loss Mrs. B. shared with my parents only.

The earrings had belonged to Mrs. B’s only daughter who had died during the war in a bombardment. 

In my reflection on this remote memory, I realized that out of the immense pain of losing her only child, Mrs. B (who was widowed) had found the generosity and courage to gift me with a precious possession of her only child. This paradox of deep and lasting pain which gives the gift and the joy of a child who receives the gift shows the capacity of the human heart to be generative, reach out and create something positive which moves us to Wholeness.

-Sister Mary Vandersteen, csj