Remember When?

Dear friends,

In the middle of the night these words came to me, "when I was a child...".

Several things came to mind as I pondered that phrase :

• St. Therese of Lisieux, or St. Therese of the Child Jesus who was also known as the "The Little Flower of Jesus."
• She continually inspires me by her teachings on the "Little Way." She found sanctity hidden in the stability of ordinary life within the convent walls--in the garden, in the chapel, in her little cell.
• And the delightful book I've been reading called St. Benedict & St. Therese.

• The author, D. Longenecker says, "Desert Fathers lived in cave cells...The cave is his prodigal's pigpen where he goes down to the underworld of his own soul. He goes there to find a hidden treasure, and the treasure he goes to find is the little child who was buried by the grown up he has become."

Can you relate to that? I certainly can...at least the part about finding the child--a treasure being buried by the grown up.

We are given a summons to become a little child--to go in search of our true self--to find the child within who trusts, obeys, forgives easily and rejoices.

Where did we find our childhood treasures--those sacred moments when we were lost in the now eternal--the places we found life, and joy...and GOD? They were probably found in the commonplace circumstances of our lives --"the doings of nothing special." St. Therese

(And before I begin--this little poem will win no literary prizes, I assure you, but I do hope it will serve a purpose.)

I perched on fences
in the afternoon sun
talking to neighbor kids
was simply such fun.

I climbed three pear trees
in the backyard
and ate the green pears
even though they were hard.

I played "swing the statue"
and froze in my place
'til they guessed what I was
and laughed in my face.

I caught tadpoles and frogs 'n lightnin' bugs
and put their lights--yikes--inside of jars,
then I stared at the night sky
just counting the stars.

I sat in grass lookin' for four-leaf clovers
and fudged one, if I only found three.
I rode bikes up and over the hills,
regardless of bandaged skinned knees.

Round and round in circles
I twirled on ice

I never minded doing

the same thing twice.

"What a paradox that only when we convert and become a little child can we reach Christian maturity." J. Saward

May we find our child within and "become like little children" so that we may enter the kingdom of heaven! Mt 18:2-3

Blessed peace,

Sheila