As
we pen our opening lines to this newsletter, it is autumn
in the country, autumn everywhere. Heading south, the geese overhead tell
us that this is a new season, a season that will have its own gifts. These
birds also teach us how to say goodbye. It happens every fall. This summer,
God sent us both rain and sunshine to help us forget last year’s growing season.
We watched the corn grow from baby green leaves, all in a row, to confident
golden stalks in the sun, almost 2-3 feet taller than most of us. We enjoyed
having our picture taken next to such a blessing! (We even took a yardstick
out to the field to measure.) And, there were cucumbers and luscious tomatoes
every day. Egg plants, too. The Job’s tears are in their final stage of producing
pearl-like beads for making all kinds of things, while trying, at the same
time, to compete with our Sweet Autumn climbing clematis. The Japanese
beetles are finally gone. This leaves our persevering roses to delight us
with their final show of enduring hope and beauty. We plan to mulch them with
long pine needles. In the process, we have had an animated discussion as to
whether or not our pines are the loblolly kind. We decided they are not, since
loblolly pines grow in the southeastern states. However, we did have fun with
the word, loblolly.
As
we look back, we recall a funny thing that happened, July
3, the feast of St. Thomas , which had nothing to do with the saint of the
day. On the other hand, maybe the incident is related to Thomas, in view of
the fact that it is quite unbelievable. Our new novice had really been missing
the green mangos of her homeland, the Philippines . We tried our best to alleviate
this longing. On July 3, out of the blue, we received a call from a trucker,
traveling in a huge truck on Interstate 80, asking us if we would like a load
of mangos, 72 flats in all. For some reason, Wal-Mart had refused the shipment.
We scurried around, contacting all our mango-loving friends, (even those who
had never tasted a mango), and eventually found someone willing to distribute
them. The mango feast went on for two or more weeks. Indeed, we came home
rejoicing, bringing in the mangos. Even the Philippine growers would have
been envious. We surely hope that all our merriment did not diminish the smile
in every aisle at Wal-Mart in any way.
On
a more serious note,
on August 15, the Eldridge Carmel formally welcomed Sister JonFe Marie of
the Holy Spirit into the novitiate. In the ritual, there is a questioning
of the novice: “What do you ask of the community?” In reply, she responded:
“Teach me to be constant in prayer, the foundation of this house, and to go
out to meet God in loving encounter.” Sister JonFe Marie, we welcome you with
love, and promise to be your companions all along the way.
There
is another nice thing that has happened to us.
Three Sisters of the Congregation of the Humility of Mary have been, and will
be, with us a few months until their own Humility Center is renovated. This
has been a real treat for us, enabling us to integrate their founding charism
with that of Carmel . We have always been impressed with the pioneering and
self-giving spirit of the American Sisterhood. Truly, their flame burns on,
unimperiled, as the poet Jessica Powers would say.
Recently,
a little book,
entitled The Great Silent Grandmother Gathering
by Sharon Mehdi, found its way to our door. It is a moving and enchanting
story for anyone who thinks that he or she is not able to save the world,
in the good sense of the word. The author begins by saying: “On a buffety,
blustery early summer day, when the news was bad and the sky turned yellow,
a strange thing happened in the town where I live. That morning, two grandmothers,
who had never met, put on their Sunday clothes and walked to the center of
town.” She goes on to say that they didn’t talk. They didn’t look at the squirrels,
and they didn’t even munch on coconut candy. We won’t tell you how it ends.
We will just say that at a time when the news was bad and many people felt
powerless, two women did a very simple thing, which, at first, no one took
seriously. When asked what they were doing, they just said they were saving
the world. We don’t know about you, but we do wonder what we can do to change
our world. Of course, there is always prayer and the giving up of munching
on a Mounds or Almond Joy. The peace candle in our window remains.
By
the time
our next newsletter reaches you, Thanksgiving will have passed. We search
for words to tell you how much you mean to us. Know that we pray for you,
every day. Together, let us keep on going in the direction of our dreams.
Your Carmelite Sisters – Eldridge , Iowa
Carmelite
Monastery
17937
250th Street
Eldridge
, Iowa 52748 – 9425
.
I
believe that the smallest act, done with love, is priceless.
St. Teresa of Avila
