Random Thoughts

Have you ever felt the need to open the window in the car - not because of carsickness, nor because of fouled air - not because the music is so unsavory you want to drown it out with road noise, nor because someone is taking a smoking break (alas!) in the presence of your delicate and valued lungs -- but because the world is so beautiful you just can't stand to watch it go by on the other side of a glass panel? Have you ever had the need to roll down the window just because you didn't want to participate in sensing the world through such an irreligious and man-made medium? Or am I just weird like that?

My section was glad to find out (from good ol' St. Thomas) that our participation in the beatific vision will not be determined by our natural intellectual capabilities, but by our love and desire for God (charity). A certain loveable blonde member of my section said, "Now, that's really a big relief, right? I mean, . . . hey, now, why is that so funny when I say it?"

I don't think I've ever written about them here, but Obsession #2 and I teach a 4th grade CCD class on Sunday mornings in a nearby town. We've been teaching our 6 little munchkins how to say the rosary this semester.

Now, on a general note, this whole year has been a wonderful experience - kids at this age are especially facinating, as are past the age of reason, and far enough past it that they are familiar with the use of rationality, but at the same time they're not old enough to have had those faculties abused into skepticism by the educational system. Plus, we have a wide diversity of talents and capabilities among the children. We have one little girl who has a lot of natural depth; she asks amazingly deep philosophical and theological questions while retaining every answer we give and relating them all to one another. Her capabilities are just breathtaking. We had a little boy last semester (whose mother, we suspect, didn't like him to learn anything but coloring-book Catholicism and therefore pulled him out) who was extremely perceptive and bright. There's also a pretty little blue-eyed girl who seems naturally gentle and pious - she's been the most heartbreaking one, in a way, since it's not so much the power of her mind but of her heart that is exceptional, and she has a natural instinct towards the love of God, but you can tell that she's starting to figure out, on her own, that her parents are not interested in any real religious devotion at all. It's painful for us to see that distress her innocent little soul. Most of the children in our class are put through our course as a kind of formality; the faith is not really lived at home. Few parents realize that the faith isn't something that can or should be taught like geography or math - an hour a week (much less time than is even given to scholastic endeavors) isn't going to do a lot for these children, but my love and I are determined to make it count for as much as possible.

So, the first week in Lent we began the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary (we've been going through each mystery in-depth, reading scripture passages out loud and discussing them in group), and our pious little girl pipes up when we asked if anyone knew what the first Sorrowful Mystery was, "Oh, yes, I know that one - for a long time I didn't know what "agony" meant - I thought it was 'The Acne in the Garden' and that just didn't make any sense!"

More later - - -

Love to you all!!!!
Emily