FOOTPRINTS  EVERYWHERE 

[The following is a story I wrote last night for our Kids' Mass - today - the Second Sunday in Advent - Year B. The theme was "Prepare the Way." There was a long brown cardboard trailer down the main aisle with lots of tiny footprints on it - with kids' names on the footprint. Prayers and readings featured the 7th Grade religious education class.]

Looking backwards, he figured it started way back  in the 7^th grade.

He was now 67 years of age. He was  finally retired. He now had time to look at stuff in lots of cardboard boxes he had stored in his basement. It was time to get rid of stuff he had saved all through his life.

Paging through some old notebooks – he found  hundreds and hundreds of tiny drawings of footprints. Tiny doodles – tiny drawings of footprints - in pen or pencil - populated the tops of the pages in those note books.

He smiled.  Wow,  I was doodling footprints way back then? And ever since – in classrooms, in boring meetings, in restaurants on napkins, when stuck in doing a crossword puzzle, he would doodle footprints  - off to the side of a page in a magazine.  Footprints were his default doodle.

He noticed one notebook which had hundreds and hundreds of tiny footprints in it - also had his name - as well as - 7^th grade - written on the cover.

He asked himself, “Maybe that’s when this habit and hobby of drawing lots and lots of feet – on pages – started. But why?  Why do I draw all these tiny footprints.”

That was his question.

He was the youngest of 5 kids and not only were his mom and dad dead – but also this 2 sisters and 2 brothers. He was the only one left – so he had really no one to ask why he doodled these drawings of little footprints in these note books. That  is, if they knew he did this – they might know why.

Footprints? Why? Why? Why?

Why did he draw footprints all his life?

With time on his hands – with his 3 kids finished college and on their own – with his wife working part time at Macy’s in the jewelry department – he decided to do the research about drawing footprints.  Why? Why? Why?

He remembered reading his first novel when he was in the 6^th grade: Robinson Crusoe. He got a copy out of the library and started reading it again. It was one of his favorite books when he was a kid.

He came to the page - the moment – when Robinson Crusoe – all alone – one morning - on an island - spots a footprint in the sand.

Uh oh!

Reading that …. Picturing that scene ….  Was that the reason why he started to draw footprints in his note books?

Mind you…. when he was in the 7^th grade –  was a long, long time ago.

This question of motive – this question of “Why?” – this single, solitary, 3 letter word, “Why?” opened up all kinds of memories and wonderings.

Question marks are shaped liked hooks. They are like hard iron crowbars. They can pry open a lot of doors – locked desk doors – blocked trapdoors.

He asked himself again, “Why have I drawn tiny footprints all my life?”

He put on a winter coat and went for a late afternoon winter’s walk.

It would soon be getting dark, but as he looked down at the ground – he saw some footprints – in the snow.

“Wow,” he thought. “There must be a billion, trillion footprints on this planet – from all the people who walked the globe. Of course the snow covers them. The rain washes them away.  Time erases so much.”

“Footprints!” He wondered, “Was this realization the reason why he started drawing footprints in his white school note books?”

From his note books he knew he was thinking about footprints from way back  when he was in the 7^th grade.

That was long before computers and iPads and all these electronic gadgets.

He wondered about what will the kids of today be looking at 60 years from now? What will last – if everything is electronic?

Footprints.

He looked up and noticed the moon starting to appear in the evening sky. He remembered that first moon landing Buzz Aldrin put his foot down on the moon July 20, 1969 – and how that footprint was forever engraved in his brain.

Footprints.

Next, that word “footprints” triggered thoughts about the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York – September 11, 2001 - being hit – being destroyed. He remembered now – now that he was thinking about footprints – that they needed to mark out the footprint of each of those two big buildings – if they were going to rebuild and start again.

Footprints are important.

He remembered a family wedding some 20 years ago or so – when he found himself sitting with an old uncle – in the lobby of the wedding reception place. The music was too loud – and nobody could really hear each other. So the old folks complained. They came to the wedding to watch and see – meet and talk -  with each other while the young people came to dance and party.

In their conversation his uncle used the word “footprint.”

His uncle said,  “I was looking at you in there at the dinner. You have your daddy’s footprints all over you: the way you smile, the way you gesture, the way you talk, the way you walk. Wow.”

He had never heard that use of the word "footprint" before. 

Besides his dad, that comment from his uncle got him really wondering whose footprints were on him.

He thought of a buddy from when he was in the marines in Vietnam. Someone said, “If you have 5 friends in a life time – 5 friends – in the deepest sense of the word – not just acquaintances – whom many people label friends – you’re lucky.”

Bud was a buddy and both were always together all through their days in Vietnam. He figured Bud would be his best man in his wedding for sure – when he got home – after their time of duty – after their time of fighting.

Bud’s footprint was all over him – especially when Bud got killed by a sniper – just one week before they were to be out of there – out of Vietnam.

He was able to go home – his time was up – as well – for the funeral.

All through the years – he would remember all the long conversations they had – their fears, their worries, their hopes for the future.

Bud’s footprint remained on him big time – not only on the Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington D.C. – but on the Memory Wall in his soul.

As he was walking in the snow that early evening  he wondered who else left their footprints on his life.

There was Mr. Jackson – a baseball coach they had in high school. Whether you started or sat on the bench – Mr. Jackson made your team – as a person – as an influence – as a footprint that was cemented into the permanency of your life.

There was Mrs. Trotto – an English teacher their senior year in high school – who taught him to write – and to love to write.

As he walked – he wondered – did he draw any footprints in his notebook during his high school senior year? What Mrs. Trotto  said was so unboring – so why would he draw – why would he doodle footprints?

As he walked – he thought of his grade school religious Ed teacher – Mr. Tex – who was from Texas. He made Jesus so real for us kids. He would love to say, “I’m like John the Baptist. I’m preparing the way for you to meet the Lord.”  Then he would add: “It’s your job in life as well – to be like John the Baptist. You’re going to be with – you’re going to have people experience you – and you might be the only Bible – the only religious Ed – they’ll ever be in touch with.

Mr. Tex didn’t use the word, “footprint” – but as he walked that afternoon – on that December  slightly snowy street - he realized, Mr. Tex, Mrs. Trotto, Coach Jackson, his dad, his mom, Bud, his army buddy, all left their footprint on him.

And at one point in his cold walk – he stopped – and looked up to God in the heavens and said, “Thank you God! Thank you all you folks up there. Thank you for leaving your footprint on my life.”

Then he walked on – leaving footprints on the ground – but they were disappearing into the dark as he headed back home in the dark.

He realized his wife would be home by now – wondering where he was and where his footprints took him.

PEARL   HARBOR

Poem for Today, Sunday, December 7, 2014

PEARL HARBOR:

DAY OF INFAMY

Sunday, December 7, 1941
Was a day like any other
Nothing new under the sun
But the silence was shattered
By the roaring of warplane engines filling the air
We thought they were our own
Until something happened
That told us this just wasn’t so
A rain of bullets fell upon aircraft, ships, and land
Destroying the life we knew
Thundering bombs fell to the harbor
Bursting holes into our ships
That were docked here at Pearl Harbor
The Arizona was hit
Wrenching it upwards then sinking it to the bottom of the harbor
The Oklahoma rolled over on its side
With men trapped in the capsized hull
Complete chaos spread across the land
Fighters manned their battle-stations
As the medical staff worked to patch up the wounded
We saw our friends, our family, our comrades
As they fought and died
Then just as suddenly as it began the attack was over

© Victoria Roberts

GOOD SAINT NICHOLAS

Poem for Today - Saturday, December, 2014

THE STORY OF SAINT NICHOLAS

Once

there was a little boy

who lived by the shore of the sea.

He watched the ships go sailing by

all wrapped in mystery.

"What do you carry,

where do you go?"

he said as he saw them there.

I hope you bring many good things

to girls and boys everywhere."

Nicholas

was the little boy's name,

in case you'd like to know.

He loved surprising others with gifts

and seeing their faces glow.

Then he would hide

and no one would know

the one who loved them,

who loved them so. 

Once a father

had grown so poor

as to sell his daughters three.

Three nights

to his window Nicholas came

with gold to keep them free.

Nicholas

went to church one day

and all the people stood:

"You have a heart like God's,"

they said,

"A heart that is so good.

Will you be our bishop

And lead us as God would?"

When Nicholas died

God welcomed him

to heaven's great applause:

"Well done, well done,

good Nicholas,

for serving well my cause."

Now every Christmas

Nicholas comes with gifts

for girls and boys.

You know his name as Nicholas,

But it's also Santa Claus. 

O Good St. Nicholas, children's friend,

friend of girls and boys,

through the clouds come again,

and fill your bag with toys.

Give me too a giving heart,

for loving others too,

I want to know how good it is

to give good gifts like you.

© Victor Hoagland, C.P.

DO  YOU  SEE 

WHAT   I   SEE?

INTRODUCTION

The title of my homily for this Friday in the First Week of Advent is, “Do You See What I See?”

I think that’s a song line in a Christmas carol.

"Do you see what I see?"

#1 LIFE LESSON

At times I wonder what is the greatest life lesson one can learn.

If we took a poll at a senior citizens center – asking that question – “The # 1 thing I’ve learned about life is ________” – I’m sure the answers would broadcast great wisdom – as well as similarities as well as differences.

What have I learned about life so far?  What do I see? What’s been my life lessons from my life experiences? What have those experiences been?

I like to ask couples celebrating their 50^th Wedding Anniversary, “What have you learned?”  “What’s the secret?”

I hear comments about communication, communication, communication.

I hear folks says, “Listen, Listen, Listen.”

I hear folks says, “Forgive – Forget – 70 times 7 times.”

I often hear cute – joke – comments like, “Always say,  ‘Yes dear’ or ‘You’re right!’”

The answers differ – and the same folks give different answers on different occasions to the same question. 

When asked about changed comments – folks often say, “It all depends!” 

Is that one of life’s great secrets: The ability to realize - It all depends.

It seems that those 3 words are often in the mix of many a conversation – so maybe that’s are one of life’s lessons.

ONE MORE KEY LIFE LESSON: WE ALL SEE DIFFERENTLY.

At times I hear someone say: “We all see differently.” 

And then they add, “In fact everyone sees differently – and the sooner you get that – the happier you’ll be.”

I once heard a speaker say, “The whole of life can be found in the verb, to see.”

I was never that sure just what that meant – but if it means, “We all see differently”– I get it.

Let me give a few examples.

The first is my Forest Gump example.

Years ago I was attending a scripture conference in Chicago with 3 other priests – each of us a Redemptorist. On Wednesday night we had off – so the 4 of us decided to go to a movie. A diocesan priest asked if he could join us. I asked in the car on the way out to the movie theater, “What’s the movie?”

The guy who was organizing the deal said, “Forest Gump.”

I said, “Never heard of it.”

So I went into the movie thinking it was a western and happy to be with 3 guys I knew – as well as a stranger.

The movie is over. We’re standing in the lobby – waiting for the guy who went for the car. I said to the stranger one to one, “How’d you like the movie?”

He said just to me, “I didn’t and I didn’t get it.”

That surprised me. I thought it was a great movie – a great way of doing biography and history and what have you.

In the 10 minute car ride back to the conference center two of the five in the car were talking and laughing and telling all  kinds of things that hit them about the movie. They loved the movie. One even said, “I’m willing to bet it’s going to win an Oscar.”

We get back to the conference center. A friend of the diocesan priest who went with us asked him about the movie. I was the only one who heard him make the following comment. “We saw a movie named Forest Gump. It was really great and worth seeing and I got a lot out of it.”

I’ve never forgotten that moment. It was a life lesson. People change their minds. People start to see differently. Was it because of peer pressure? Was it because he doesn’t see things till someone else points them out?

I don’t know. I don’t know how this guy sees and does life.

The second example I call, “The Pope’s White Robe” story.

I’m at a Jewish wedding of a good family friend in Ann Arbor Michigan. Near the end of the wedding, the father of the bridegroom asks me to drop a friend of his and his wife at the airport in Michigan on their way back to California. Marty knew I’d be driving right by the airport.

We’re in my car and this Jewish guy says to me, “What do you call that white robe the Pope wears?”

I say, “Cassock!”

He then says, “Now don’t take me wrong. Every time I see him wearing that white  garment – I think of a great way to solve any money problems the Catholic Church might have. All they would have to do is put advertisements on that white garment – like a Pepsi Cola or a Coca Cola  image and message.”

I said, “No offense. Great idea – but no – I’m sure they would never do that.”

What I got out of that moment was this: he was seeing a great space for advertising something – I see the pope.

We all see differently.

My sister Mary doesn’t like t-shirts with messages on them. I see t-shirts with messages on them as great conversation starters.

So maybe put a biblical text – like “Love one another as I have loved you.” on the pope’s cassock.”

My sister Mary and I were together for a whole week at Thanksgiving with my sister-in-law and 6 of her 7 daughters and their families in a big rent-a-house in Virginia Beach.  Surprise my grandnieces and nephews and 2 girl friends came out of a room wearing t-shirts with my picture on them – celebrating my 75^th Birthday – with the message, “Hi Turkey!” on the shirt. That’s one of my favorite sayings. I’ve discovered that it’s a great ice breaker. It’s a great instant conversation starter with people. I’ll have to ask my sister Mary if she liked those t-shirts with a message on them.

A last example goes like this. A young teenage girl came out of her room and told her daddy she lost a contact lens. She said she searched everywhere in her room and couldn’t find it. “I looked 2 whole hours,” she said. He went in and in 3 minutes came out  with her contact lens. 

She said, “How did you find it so quickly?”

He said, “You were looking for a contact lens. I was looking for $200.”

Obvious message: we all see differently.

CONVERSATION STARTER – COMMUNICATION STARTER

I’m saying in this homily that “seeing” is a great life message.

I’m saying in this homily that knowing we often see differently – both of us or all of us looking at the same movie or thing, and then checking it out – can lead to conversations, communication, communion – as well as growth in understanding each other

CONCLUSION

I’ll start and end my homily this way, “The title of my homily is, ‘Do You See What I See?’”

Say those 6 words 6 times each day to 6 different people, and see what they see.  They might help you see things you never saw before.

SEEING

"I remember standing on a street corner with the black painter Beauford Delaney down in the Village waiting for the light to change, and he pointed down and said, 'Look.'  I looked and all I saw was water. And he said, 'Look again,' which I did, and I saw oil on the water and the city reflected in the puddle. It was a great revelation to me. I can't explain it. He taught me how to see, and how to trust what I saw. Painters have often taught writers how to see. And once you've had that experience, you see differently." James Baldwin

CHRIST WILL COME

Poem for Today - December 5, 2014 - Friday

ADVENT CALENDAR

He will come like last leaf's fall.
One night when the November wind
has flayed the trees to bone, and earth
wakes choking on the mould,
the soft shroud's folding.

He will come like frost.
One morning when the shrinking earth
opens on mist, to find itself
arrested in the net
of alien, sword-set beauty.

He will come like dark.
One evening when the bursting red
December sun draws up the sheet
and penny-masks its eye to yield
the star-snowed fields of sky.

He will come, will come,
will come like crying in the night,
like blood, like breaking,
as the earth writhes to toss him free.
He will come like child.

© Rowan Williams

(The Poems of

Rowan Williams,

Perpetua Press 2002) 

TURN, TURN, TURN

Poem for today, Thursday, December 4, 2014

TOWARDS THE LIGHT

Too often our answer to the darkness

is not running toward Bethlehem

but running away.

We ought to know by now that we can't see

where we're going in the dark.

Running away is rampant ...

separation is stylish:

separation from mates, from friends, from self.

Run and tranquilize,

don't talk about it

avoid.

Run away and join the army

of those who have already run away.

When are we going to learn that Christmas Peace

comes only when we turn and face the darkness?

Only then will we be able to see

the Light of the World.

© Ann Weems

Kneeling in Bethlehem

ADVENT: THE ARRIVAL

Poem for Today - December 3, 2014

ON THE MYSTERY OF THE INCARNATION

It's when we face for a moment
the worst our kind can do, and shudder to know
the taint in our own selves, that awe
cracks the mind's shell and enters the heart:
not to a flower, not to a dolphin,
to no innocent form
but to this creature vainly sure
it and no other is god-like, God
(out of compassion for our ugly
failure to evolve) entrusts,
as guest, as brother,
the Word.

© Denise  Levertov  (1923–1997)