A Rose by Any Other Name

Written by Maria Rioux

It was the first and only time I ever got a dozen roses.

We were in graduate school… at least my husband, Jean, was, but I always think of it as a team effort. A rose isn’t edible, which makes it a luxury. A rose is expensive, which makes it an extravagance. Twelve of them fell into the “unthinkable” category, given our circumstances. And yet, following the birth of our first son, my husband walked into my hospital room with a dozen roses and our two-year old daughter, Michelle (her dress... and shoes! on backwards?), who struggled to control a silver helium balloon announcing the happy news: “It’s a boy!!!” What that balloon did not say was that our boy was premature, had Down Syndrome, could not maintain his body temperature, had a hole in his heart, and could not yet eat as babies naturally do. Most people were offering condolences, not congratulations. Those who didn’t say anything looked sad. To be fair, we were happy and sad at the same time: we were happy Tom was alive and getting the medical care he needed to grow stronger, and we looked forward to holding him and caring for him. But we were sad at the prospect of his lifelong cross. A team of doctors had already come to prepare us for the “low quality of life” he should expect to experience in the years ahead.

Yet those roses and that balloon reminded me, and everyone who saw them, that this child was a singular and most precious gift, and that even crosses work for good. Those roses, so unexpected, singular and beautiful, were a foretaste of the surprising joys to come. Joy is sometimes mingled with sorrow and tears. In the natural world, nothing grows and thrives without water. Maybe we can’t fully appreciate blessings or make much spiritual progress without some tears.

“Low quality of life” (which can refer not only to the person with such a cross but also to his care givers) is all-too-often a matter of perception. Much has been written to help one overcome handicaps to the extent that that is possible. I’d like to write about the surprising joys and blessings accompanying this cross. Rather than a low quality of life, Tom and others like him display the beauty of a simple one. If you could have heard Tom’s giggles when he was a baby and young child… in fact, if you could hear them today (he’s 20 now, and doesn’t giggle quite as often) or his laugh, you’d have no questions about his appreciation for life… nor our gratitude in being allowed to share in his!

All things work for good and God’s plan is perfect. How is God’s perfection reflected in such a person? It might not be so much in what he can do but in what he can inspire others to do. Children help us to forget ourselves, sometimes in such delightful ways that we hardly notice. Children who are unusually needy make that all the more necessary, but in ways that cannot go unnoticed. Because Tom is our second child, all of our children have been touched by him throughout their developmental years. They are more appreciative of their own blessings and more compassionate as a result. He has been a gift to our family in so many ways. He reminds each of us of all that truly matters, because so many things that seem important are not possible for him. He doggedly works to master those things that are possible with exemplary and cheerful perseverance. He loves as God loves: without reserve, quick to forgive and eager to help.

Tom could not eat as babies normally do. We were given bottles with very soft nipples which didn’t require much muscle tone while being sucked. Those bottles made feeding the baby something anyone could do. It was something we did together. One of us massaged Tom’s cheeks to encourage his muscles and stimulate sucking, while the other made sure the bottle angle was right so that he inhaled a minimal amount of air. It almost never mattered. No matter how careful we were, nor how well we burped him, Tom’s incredible gag reflex coupled with low muscle tone somehow conspired against our best efforts. We’d have to start all over again. It didn’t always seem to be so, but it was a wonderful opportunity to work together for the good of this child we loved so well. It was also a reflection of how God cares for each of us, so dependent upon Him being handicapped by fallen nature, but so loved and patiently cared for regardless.

For years we worked on developing various muscle groups. One memory stands out: that of Tom, laying in a sling slowly swinging back and forth, reaching for some object he fancied, or for me when he was tired and ready to quit. Tom worked so very hard to get the appealing thing we encouraged him to grab. Initially he did it because he wanted the ball or the car. As he tired, he did it because he wanted to please me and his cheering siblings. Eventually, he no longer cared for anything we might offer by way of encouragement. He wanted one thing: to stop this, to snuggle in my arms, content and peaceful. He was such a concrete image of each of us, while also a reminder to maintain proper focus. We so often pursue what seems attractive at the moment. We’re pretty clumsy about it, and “it” is often elusive. Eventually we tire of such pursuits and recognize what Augustine came to see: our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.

When Tom was around three we worked on speech. We held pictures of everyday things and he would have to choose accordingly: the girl combing her hair, or a car. Then he would have to say its name. When I was finished his siblings begged for a turn to “be the teacher”. Tom loved it. One day I was making dinner and Angela (then two) was “working” with him in the next room. What surprised me was that he kept getting things wrong that he usually had no trouble with. After a few minutes I went to see what the problem was, fearing a mental lapse, speech amnesia: we were going to have to start all over again. There sat Angela, facing Tom and holding up two cards. Tom had a sort of confused but contented look on his face. “Where is de twuck, Tom?” Angela demanded. Tom seemed mystified, and I didn’t blame him. She was holding both of the cards with the pictures facing her. Maybe this was some sort of game of chance. After a couple of seconds he took a gamble and picked one. “Oooo, no Tom, dat’s a caaarrrrrr...say CCCAAAARRR.” One thing was certain: he had no future in Vegas.

Every child is unique, and Tom reminded us of this in many concrete and delightful ways. When he first learned to blow kisses he did it from his neck. He knew there was supposed to be a clucking sound accompanying kisses but was a bit hazy on the more technical aspects. He pursed his lips a bit more generously than is customary and clucked with his tongue, making him the ideal poster child for, “If chickens had lips...”. When he thought he was a good boy, he’d pat his own head and tell himself so.

Abstract concepts are difficult for Tom. He’s proof that man learns through his senses… and some of us get lost quickly without the concrete. This is why we are amazed at how far he has come in learning to play the piano. He can now play songs like the Battle Hymn of the Republic with the left hand notes/chords matching the right hand notes. He even keeps the counting going… though he does fudge on the rhythm. If he can’t find a note he just drags the previous one out a bit until he works it out. He loves to play for people! A crooked little smile sneaks upon his lips, which he works to conceal because… it’s not professional? I’m not sure why, but he definitely tries to hide it and appear low-key. He talks to himself quietly, psyching himself up. “Okay, now...Yes...yes...Ah! I got it!.... Ahhh!” He plays the piece, sometimes having to look down at his fingers for hand positions or elusive notes, but generally reading and playing in a way that is both a joy and a testimony to years of struggle and perseverance. When he’s finished he beams, now smiling openly and broadly, and takes a bow.

Tom would like to be able to buy things on his own but is still sort of mystified by money. I might not actually kill, but I certainly would like to throttle, the guy who made the dime smaller than the nickel. We’re working on the idea of “next dollar”: giving the clerk the next highest dollar amount so that Tom would not have to count change. Tom spends his money the same way he lives his life: in simple, joyful, and generous ways.

Tom also loves animals. He will happily play with our cats for long periods. It’s then I hear giggles most often. He will use a shoelace or string to entice the cat into pouncing. Though part of the fun may be that he is fast enough to outsmart the cat, most of it lies in the simple joy of playing with animals. Even the cat looks like she’s giggling!

Tom likes to read about strong, brave men or boys. He’s read all the Narnia books, but The Lord of the Rings has thus far been too difficult. Books are incorporated into his life. I find him playing in other rooms, talking to himself. “Oh, Tom, you’re so strong!” he declares as he wings his sword around, challenges all comers, and walks off the field, triumphant again. If he happens to notice you watching him, he gets a sheepish look on his face and says, “What?” which sounds more like, “How long have you been standing there?” Scenarios in the shower are even more involved. I don’t think he realizes we can hear him outside the bathroom.

Tom also writes stories, though they tend to have a single theme: Tom the hero. Sometimes it’s because he’s brave, sometimes it’s because he’s smart, sometimes it’s because he’s amazingly fast… and sometimes he’s all of that at once. He usually has a sidekick, his brother Ben, who is also brave, smart, and fast… though not as much as Tom. He will leave his stories lying around for us to find and read, watching furtively from a distance to see our reaction. He will beam with pride when we notice his great spelling, neat handwriting, or the story as a whole. This can be a joy, but also a sorrow because Tom’s stories have a point: he’d like to be exactly what he imagines himself to be… but knows he isn’t.

Tom wakes up early as a rule. After washing up and eating he checks on the laundry. He loves to surprise us with laundry neatly folded into individual piles corresponding to each person, (though every once in a while Jean gets Will’s underwear… or I (!) do.) This has earned Tom the title of “Laundry Master”, and he works hard to make sure no one steals it. He does not like dishes, but does his fair share. Sometimes I surprise him by doing them for him and he will slide up to me, plant a kiss on my cheek and tell me, “I love you, Mom.”

As his siblings grow older and more independent, the differences have become especially painful. We’ve had discussions with him about Down Syndrome, the impact this has on his life, and the things he can and cannot do. The last occurred when Angela, his younger sister, learned to drive. Tom wanted to learn as well. We both had the sense that Tom didn’t really understand why we insisted this was not possible. He got the gist… he wasn’t going to be driving… but he sort of tuned out or couldn’t really grasp the reason why. Soon Angela will leave for college. Tom would like to do the same. This time the full force of his handicap seemed to hit him. His eyes filled with tears of disappointment and sorrow. Jean wrapped his arms around Tom and hugged him hard. When Will saw Tom and his dad he said, “Awwwww, Dat’s soooo niiiice!!” and Tom, eyes still full of tears, began to smile. He patted Will’s head with affection and left the room, still smiling. Sunday at Mass Tom happened to be sitting next to Will. At one point he reached over and patted Will’s head. At first Will did nothing. Then he looked up at Tom, grabbed his arm, and kissed it fiercely. It’s a guy thing. Even kissing doubles as some sort of attack… it falls under friendly fire.

Over the years people, and even animals, have inadvertently or intentionally hurt Tom. One thing has never changed: Tom is eager to forgive and able to put any and all transgressions “as far from him as east is from west”. His love reminds me, in such a hopeful, joyful way, of God’s love. He has never hurt or offended God (or, to my knowledge, anyone else) in a deliberate way… though he can be unusually stubborn and lazy. Tom reminds us that we are each called to become saints and given all we need to do so. Pope Benedict is right: “Even suffering is part of the truth of our life. Thus, trying to shield the youngest from every difficulty and experience of suffering, we risk creating, despite our good intentions, fragile persons of little generosity: The capacity to love, in fact, corresponds to the capacity to suffer, and to suffer together.”

All parents marvel at the accomplishments of their children. Others forgive us our besotted descriptions of their latest achievements, but, if truth were told, we probably don’t rave nearly enough. We do not fully appreciate the beauty and complexity of these well-oiled machines until they don’t run the way they normally should. We began doing physical therapy with Tom at three weeks. I couldn’t imagine what we were supposed to do with such a small baby, but that was because I took so much for granted. Rolling over, crawling, walking and talking at the same time: each is in itself worthy of resounding applause. We learned to pin his pajama knees together so that he would not spread his legs very far apart (otherwise his hip sockets would be damaged before they were fully formed). We learned how to help him roll over, sit up, and be comfortable with new textures. Most importantly, we learned that there was a right way to do just about everything, and avoided complications in the future by making sure Tom did things that way.

Some books that are especially helpful to that end are:

Gross Motor Skills in Children With DS: A guide for parents/professionals by Patricia C. Winders.

Fine Motor Skills in Children With DS by Maryanne Bruni.

A Gaze from My Mother's Eyes

Written by Theresa Thomas


One of my earliest memories is looking into my mother’s eyes.

I must have been a baby because I don’t remember much else other than that- well, that and feeling comfortable warm, secure. I often wonder, even today, when I meet people who can’t or don’t make eye contact if it is because they did not have the first, warm mother/child connection when they were babies.  Feeling love and total acceptance through an affectionate gaze has got to be one of life’s grandest, sweetest things.  And I think it must be harder to connect with people later on if one misses out on that early on. 

Because of this early eye contact and knowing how important it must be in the development of a child, I tried to make a point with my own babies to initiate and maintain that loving gaze often. It really wasn’t that hard- I loved staring at my little ones in awe and in wonder anyway, even as I was pondering what on earth God was thinking to bestow such a perfect gift as this child on such an imperfect person and inexperienced mother such as me.

I enjoyed looking at my children, smiling at them, and hugging them often. I told them that they were important, smart and good. Some nights I would sneak into their bedrooms long after they were asleep and whisper these things into their ears. “You’re such a good boy. Mama loves you.” Or “You are a sweet, wonderful little girl.”  And I’d stroke their heads and hope that in their dreams they heard me.

The children know they are loved. I am sure.  Did this make them grow into arrogant, self-centered human beings? Oh no. No, not at all. One can only give what he possesses and the first step to giving is receiving.  In fact, I think the children have grown to be more sensitive because their “cup is full”. When one’s cup overflows he can more easily and freely give. This giving is not forced or stilted. It becomes natural.  The children have confidence, and that is something, I am sure, that comes from those loving glances, those confirming words, that tender link tracing back to a legacy of love first initiated by my own devoted and caring mother.

I can give because I was given.  And now, it is my hope and desire that my children can too.

A mother’s love is strong, impermeable and constant. When I underwent cancer treatment and my husband had to go to work to provide for us, my mother faithfully took me to chemotherapy every other Monday for six months. It couldn’t have been easy for her to watch the nurses poke me repeatedly (rolling veins) and take several vials of blood before I was seated and secured with an IV for a four hour drip of four powerful, skin-burning, nausea-inducing drugs., which eliminated my appetite, bloated my body and made me chemically depressed. Instead of caving into her own self and needs, my mother tried to tend to mine, lovingly, patiently and not unlike when I was a baby in need of simple food, care and attention.  A mother’s love endures.

The devoted love of a mother doesn’t mean that she doesn’t discipline her children. In fact, love is an important aspect of the child-rearing discipline, whose goal is to help the child become self-disciplined. When a mother must be firm, she can. She must. She may empathize with a child’s infantile desires, but she remains steadfast in promoting truth to him. She does not give him junk food just because he wants it. She makes him clean his room to learn responsibility and order. She does not tolerate mean or disrespectful behavior towards others or immaturity in dealing with serious things.

In short, a holy mother’s love is tender but true, steadfast but strong. I want to offer the thought that the Catholic Church has often been likened to a holy Mother because of Her love, gifts of Truth and other maternal qualities.  As Mother’s Day approaches, I invite you to ponder this.

Today, I sit in awe of the gift of a glance, the tenderness of a touch, the reality of sacrifice being the key to enabling the next generation to give and to love. I sit, basking in gratitude for my own mother’s example, and in awe of other mothers I’ve been privileged to know over the last 40+ years, who selflessly encourage, care and correct.

Inspired by them all, every day, I continue to strive to be one of the “holy mothers”, one of those who empties out her heart for the good of those around her.   When I look back into my mother’s eyes I see her, yes but I also see beyond them to a future of possibilities.

Theresa is a Catholic wife and homeschooling mother of nine. She is the co-author of the book Stories for the Homeschool Heart; family columnist for Today's Catholic News; a story contributor to Amazing Grace for Mothers, Amazing Grace for Fathers, and Amazing Grace for Families and she writes for the website Integrated Catholic Life, a site dedicated to helping Catholics integrate their faith in everyday situations.

Theresa is currently working on a second book to be published by Scepter Publishing entitled Big Hearted Families with Patti Armstrong mother of ten - 8 biological and 2 adopted. It will be stories of families who have been open to life (in many different ways) and the blessings that this has brought to them. 


Theresa blogs at Theresa Thomas - Everyday Catholic

Why Bother with Mary?

Written by Victor S.E. Moubarak

The first “Any Questions” session held by Father Ignatius in the church center proved so successful that some members of the congregation asked him to hold another one. They enjoyed asking questions about church matters in general and the Catholic Church’s teachings in particular, and learning from both Father Ignatius and Father Donald answering honestly rather than “toeing the party line”; as one parishioner called it.

“Are you sure that the hot chocolate drinks and free cakes aren’t the real attraction here?” asked Father Ignatius.

He was assured that this was not the case and it was agreed to hold another meeting at which parishioners could invite guests.

The night in question was well attended with about sixty people packing the church center and sitting cinema style facing the top table. Father Donald was not available and he was replaced by the Reverend Harold Barnstable, the vicar from a neighbouring church. He knew Father Ignatius well as the two priests were members of the Area Ecumenical Council, a body set up to encourage contact and co-operation amongst churches from various denominations. The Reverend had brought a few parishioners from his church to the meeting with him.

After the first few questions about the benefits of church unity and what obstacles lay in the way of such a goal a young man stood up at the back of the room and said:

“Father Ignatius, I do not attend your church. One thing I can’t understand about you Catholics is your devotion to Mary. Granted, she was the Mother of Jesus, but no more than that. Yet you Catholics pray to her all the time and ask her for favours.

"Christ said ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one goes to the Father except by me.’ What can be clearer than that? Paul re-iterates this message in his letter to Timothy when he says, ‘there is one God, and there is one mediator who brings God and mankind together, Christ Jesus.’

"I consider devotion to Mary as blasphemy to God. What do you have to say about this?”

The Reverend Barnstable shuffled uneasily in his chair as he recognized the questioner as one of his parishioners. However, he politely looked sideways at Father Ignatius and said nothing.

Father Ignatius smiled and said calmly “I agree …”

This silenced the audience who knew him too well and expected a rebuttal of the points made by the visitor. They were not disappointed. Father Ignatius continued:

“Viewed from you perspective, and considering the Bible quotations you mention, it can be seen as blasphemy to pray to Mary and ask her to mediate for us and present our needs to Jesus, and to God. So let us see your point from a different perspective.

“Let me ask you something first. Have you ever prayed for a sick relative or friend to get better?”

“Well … yes …” hesitated the young man.

“That’s good …” replied Father Ignatius gently, “it shows charitable loving intentions from you towards those people. You didn’t say ‘let them pray for themselves to get better’ but you prayed for them. You mediated on their behalf, or, to put it in more common parlance, you put in a good word for them.

“You said to God ‘Dear Lord … you know my friend is a good chap … please heal him from his illness!’ ”

The audience laughed.

Father Ignatius continued, “By praying for your sick friends you mediated on their behalf. And if it is God’s will, He sometimes answers our prayers.

“In the same way, there’s nothing wrong in my opinion if the Virgin Mary puts in a good word for me with Jesus when I ask her. God knows I need it!”

The audience laughed again.

“You see …” went on the priest, “at the wedding in Cana when the wine ran out, the servants went to Mary for advice and guidance. She was a guest at the wedding, no more. They didn’t go to Jesus direct, or to the bridegroom, or to the best man, if they had such a thing in those days … but they went to Mary.

“She interceded on behalf of the married couple; and Jesus at her request performed His first miracle.

“I believe this to be very significant … is Jesus encouraging us here to ask Mary to mediate for us?

“Some may not agree, but I personally see nothing wrong in asking the Virgin Mary to intercede on my behalf, and I ask her often to do so.

“But let me answer your specific point as to whether my praying to her is blasphemy … as you called it.

“God saw fit to choose this young lady to be the Mother of His only Son. Obviously He holds her in high regards.

“I too … hold her in high regards. This is why I recite the Rosary daily.

“Do you honestly think that when I get to meet God face to face He will punish me for daring to love Mary, the Mother of Jesus? Will God view my honouring her as blasphemy? I think not.

“By praying to her, takes nothing away from my reverence to God and Jesus. Like you, I accept God as my Creator and Jesus as my Saviour; and I also pray to Mary to mediate on my behalf.

“Nothing wrong with that … and certainly no blasphemy intended!”

“I understand …” replied the young man sheepishly.

“It was a good question,” continued Father Ignatius, “but let me get back to your two quotations from the Bible.

“When Jesus said He is the way to God, and when St Paul re-affirmed this, they were referring to Christ as being the Son of God and our Saviour through His sacrifice on the Cross.

“They were not saying that we should not honour the Virgin Mary who holds a high place in Heaven. And no where in the Bible are we told not to pray to her or ask her to mediate on our behalf.

“We’re all sinners, and we need as many friends on the other side as we can muster. I also pray to Saint Ignatius of Loyola after whom I was named.”

Victor blogs at Time for Reflections.


Victor's books Golden Drops, Golden Droplets and Father Ignatius Teaches contain more Father Ignatius stories. They are all available as free downloadable ebooks.

Sitting on Mary's Lap

Written by Sue Elvis

The other day, I was designing a blog button to go with all our May posts, our ACF posts about Mary and motherhood. I thought carefully about the words. What title should I give Mary?

For a few minutes I pondered the many names Mary is known by: Our Lady, Blessed Virgin Mary, Virgin Mary, Immaculate Mary, Blessed Mother, Saint Mary, Holy Mary, Holy Virgin, Mother of God, Madonna, Queen of Heaven… then there’s all her other titles like Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Sorrows, Our Lady of Perpetual Succour, Our Lady Help of Christians…

But the one I chose to use was the simple ‘Mary’.

Soon the button was finished:

I wonder sometimes if I should be so intimate with Our Mother. Perhaps I should show more respect and always say The Blessed Virgin Mary when speaking of her. Mary inspires me with awe and I do want to honour her.

But also, I want to crawl on her lap, feel her arms around me, whisper in her ear. She understands my difficulties. She knows I sometimes need a safe place to sit. She is a mother. She is our mother. She is Mary.

My youngest daughter Gemma-Rose is eight years old. Although she is no longer a very little girl, every day she comes and asks, “Can I sit on your lap, Mum? I need a hug.” I scoop her up and enfold her in my arms and I enjoy.

“What will I do when you grow up?” I ask. “Who will sit on my lap and hug me?”

“I will,” answers Gemma-Rose. “I’ll never be too old to sit on your lap.”

I have a print on my wall called The Virgin and Child with St Anne. It is a cartoon or drawing by Leonardo da Vinci. Mary is holding Jesus, while sitting on the lap of St Anne. It is an unusual pose. Mary, a grown woman, sitting on the lap of her mother? Yes, even when we are adults we still need a mother. Mary needed hers. We need ours. We also need Our Mother, Mary.

A dear friend once wrote a few words I ponder frequently. She prayed that our sons (in heaven) may teach us how to become little so we can fit on Mary's lap and never depart.  Maybe there are times for standing at a distance and expressing our respect and honour to Our Lady. And perhaps there are times for crawling straight onto her lap. Somehow I don’t think Our Lady would mind if I call her Mary.

Gemma-Rose is still on my lap. She hugs me tightly. “I love you so much, Mum!” she whispers in my ear. 

My daughter doesn't know it, but I am also sitting on a lap. Mary enfolds me in her arms and then bends her head towards me. I also whisper: "I love you so very much, Mary!" 

I am so glad Mary is my Mother and that I am a mother myself.

Please share more of my posts at my blog Sue Elvis Writes

Souls, too, are Born of the Virgin Mary

Written by Anthony English


"In his miraculous birth, Jesus was the fruit of heaven and earth ... He was conceived of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary. That is the way Jesus is always conceived. That is the way he is reproduced in souls. He is always the fruit of heaven and earth."


These remarkable words open the classic work on the Holy Spirit, The Sanctifier. Archbishop Martinez, the former Archbishop of Mexico.


Sanctification requires our cooperation


When God became man, he did it with the full, free cooperation of Mary, his Blessed Mother. When God sanctifies us, it is also with the full and free cooperation of Our Lady. The Holy Spirit is the Sanctifier from the Latin sancta facere - to make holy. But we are not merely passive in the work of our sanctification. As St. Augustine said, "God who created you without you, will not save you without you." And Mary's role is even more indispensable than our own, because she wants our sanctification even more than we ourselves do.


God Himself came to visit the world. And not just to visit, but to save us. He could have come by becoming a grown man, without a mother. However, He chose a different manner of coming: by being conceived in a Mary's virginal womb, born a subject of the law to redeem the subjects of the law. God works through human actions and circumstances. In His loving providence, God can make use of anything. In the Incarnation of Jesus Christ, Mary was the willing instrument in God's divine plan.


Our sanctification and Mary's cooperation


Our Lady was chosen, prepared and sanctified from her first moment of life to be the Mother of Christ. She was also chosen to be the mother of Christ's body, the Church. She works with the Holy Spirit in the continual presence of Christ throughout the centuries. Every virtue, every true prayer, every supernatural act of forgiveness or charity or humility comes from grace, moved by the Holy Spirit and mediated by Mary to the mystical body of Christ.


"The love of God is poured in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who is given to us" (Rom 5:5).


When grace is poured into the soul through baptism, the Holy Spirit - God Himself - becomes the soul's delightful guest. And this Divine Guest is not idle. He works in us through love.


Our Lady does not dwell in our souls in this way, but she cooperates freely and fully in our sanctification. Through her intercession, she prepares our souls to be fitting places for her Divine Spouse, the Holy Spirit, to dwell in our hearts. Our Lady gave birth to Jesus Christ 2000 years ago but her role in salvation didn't end there. She continues to be intercessor, model of all virtue and grace, mother of divine grace. That is why we ask her to pray for us now and when we are dying, so that we will more closely be conformed to Her Son in this life and live in union with Him in the next.


God became man through the Holy Spirit, but only with the consent of Mary who, moved by grace, generously and completely surrendered her body and soul for God's plan of salvation. When we are elevated to divine grace, it is once again through the Holy Spirit, and only with the consent of Mary for God's plan of sanctification.


Author's note: Many ideas from this article have come from The Sanctifier by Archbishop Luis M. Martinez. If you wish to look more deeply into the role of the Holy Spirit and Our Lady in our sanctification, I'd highly recommend this classic work on the Holy Spirit.

Creating a Rosary Notebook

Written by Erin

Towards the end of October after a discussion with our tweens and younger children, we've been enjoying a different approach to our Faith lessons, notebooking.  Some ideas are quickly pulled together, some take a little more searching.  I thought I'd share here in the desire to help anyone who may be searching for ideas for Faith notebooks too.

As it was October, the Month of the Holy Rosary,  we decided that would be our focus. The majority of our notebooking came from That Resource Site, Celebrate the Month of the Holy Rosary, there were many links here we didn't have time to use including beautiful notebooking pages.

The first two notebooking sheets were a Rosary handout sheet that included an overview of the mysteries, of both words and pictures and a snippet of the history of the rosary.  For this particular notebook we used paper from Catholic Stationery.


Next we created Rosary mini-books. Mini-books and I have a love-hate relationship but we finally managed to cut and staple.

We then coloured one of Charlotte's lovely colouring pages of Our Lady of the Rosary.

For colouring pictures of the decades of the Rosary visit Jenn for beautiful pictures and links.

We finished with counting and colouring this simple rosary worksheet. (click on image and copy, link is not working at present)

We finally managed to print and laminate The Bookworm's Rosary Three Part Cards.  A big hit, and all the children spent time matching pictures, pictures and words and sorting into mysteries.


Other ideas to encourage participation in the Rosary with little ones include Rosary Boxes and Rosary Roses. The older ones may enjoy making a Rosary. A guaranteed hit for the Month of the Holy Rosary would be to make an edible Rosary.

Stay tuned as we have more faith notebooking to share.

Please share more of Erin's posts at her blog, Seven Little Australians and Counting

Rosary beads made by Anne at All Beautiful Catholic Beads

Unhappy with Motherhood

Written by Kari


I had an interesting conversation today.  I was standing at the counter checking out, for once all alone with no children in tow, when I mentioned that I had 5 children.  I cannot even remember how the subject came up but the woman behind the counter immediately responded with, “You have 5 children?  Do they drive you nuts?”

Now, as anyone with more than two children will tell you, it is not at all unusual to get surprising and varied reactions to the subject of children and family planning.  Nonetheless, I was thrown off by her question.  “No,” I answered quickly, “I love my children.”  But then, as I thought about it for a second, I had to admit, “Well, there are moments they drive me nuts, but overall I enjoy my children.”  I wanted to be completely honest.

She looked at me quizzically and maybe I should have let it drop at that but I continued, “My children know their limits.” I told her. 

“Oh, so you rule with an iron fist,” she said knowingly, nodding her head like she got it now. 

            

But as I thought about that, I felt the need to speak up yet again.  “Not really.  I don’t have to most of the time.  They are just pretty good kids,” I told her.

“Well, I guess you do look like you’ve got it altogether,” the woman conceded (an interesting comment on its own considering I did not have the children with me), “Lots of people these days are not too happy with motherhood though.”

Since that conversation this morning, I have thought about her observation.  She is right, of course.  A lot of people are unhappy with motherhood.  Children are seen as burdens, not blessings and having 5 (or more) of them sounds like torture to some people, I guess.  None of this is really news to me, but hearing someone admit it so casually as if it is no big deal was upsetting.  It has really caused me to pause and think about this world we live in, and the negative attitudes that pervade it.  

There is SO much I could say about it all.  I could go on and on about how people are so misguided, how their priorities are skewed, and about how worldly wisdom has ruined family values in this country.  I think I will try to keep my mouth shut about all that this time though……  

Instead I will just pray.  I will pray that my example and witness, and that of other strong Christian mothers, might be enough to convince others to take a closer look at their own attitudes and priorities.  I will pray that God will enlighten the minds of those mothers who are not too happy with motherhood and help them to see the gift that their children, and their responsibility towards them, is.  

Maybe, while I am at it, I will also say a prayer of thanksgiving.  It is such a privilege and a blessing to be a mother.  Though it is not always easy and my children do drive me nuts occasionally, I am grateful to God for the gift of motherhood.  Unusual as it may sound, it is a something I really am very happy with.

About Kari: 

I am a Catholic wife and home schooling mother of 5. I willingly admit that I define myself by my vocation. I do not feel at all diminished as a person to be “only” a wife and mother. I am proud to have a wonderful family to serve and care for. It is enough for me. It is what I've always wanted. It is where I serve God and come to know Him better each and everyday. In addition to my family and my faith, I am also passionate about writing. The blogging world has allowed me the privilege and blessing of bringing together all my passions.

Kari blogs at Overflow. Please visit and share more of her posts.