This week marked the birthday of Dorothy Day, one of my personal heroes and saints. So this first take is devoted to her. She said:
The greatest challenge of the day is:
how to bring about a revolution of the heart, a revolution
which has to start with each one of us?
In the midst of the Occupy movements happening all over the country, this question is more relevant than ever.
I have two books to recommend in honor of Dorothy's birthday. The first is hers, The Long Loneliness, a wonderful, spiritually uplifting book about her conversion, her life and her work. The second is the book The Life You Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage, by Paul Elie. Described by its publisher as "the story of four modern American Catholics who made literature out of their search for God," this engaging book weaves together the biographies of Dorothy Day, Flannery O'Connor, Walker Percy, and Thomas Merton. I received this book as a gift years ago, and although it's been awhile since I read it, it remains a well-loved favorite. If not for my wonderful husband and five beautiful children (so, if not for my entire life), I would run off to live a life like these four people did: part social activist, part hermit contemplative, all writer.
Both books are well worth your time and your brain.
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And that's the only important take I've got today. The rest are silly little things my kids did and said this week, and a couple of odds and ends:
Mom: "You mean without honesty."
Son, with twinkle in eye: "No, I mean dishonesty. Can a marriage survive without it?"
Mom: "Remind me to be less sarcastic with my next family."
Because clearly, it's too late with this one.
And before mom can answer, he runs out of the room to find his brother and shouts: "I KNOW WHY THAT WHALE IS NAMED MOBY DICK! BECAUSE HE'S A SPERM WHALE!!!!!"
No words needed. And none could I find.
Late one night, just as I was drifting off to bed, I heard the alarm on my son's phone go off.
BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep. BREEP BREEP, breep breep.The darn thing doesn't stop until someone presses the OK button. And this has happened before. Once, the phone was right next to him, and it woke up his brother, but not him, and his poor brother didn't know how to turn it off and was tormented by it for 15 minutes before he came and got me. (And yes, I suggested that next time he wake up his brother, and not me.)
This time, the phone was in the living room, and neither boy heard it. But I did, even though I was upstairs. Disgusted, I threw the warm blankets off, and stormed downstairs in righteous indignation. What is so important that he needs to set an alarm for this hour? I picked up the phone and gave the OK button a vigorous, annoyed poke. And then saw the event that was important enough for him to set an alarm: Mom's Birthday.
Oh. OK. That's worth it. Except he slept through it. But it's the thought that counts. I guess.
We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium this week. What an amazing place. My favorites sighting? The Leafy Sea Dragon! This creature is, I think, the single most amazing living thing I've ever laid eyes on:
|I want to be this guy!|
I made the boys super mad at me right before we left the house that morning by telling them they could not bring their ipods. Call me crazy, but I sort of wanted to have a shared experience, even of the driving time, and wasn't interested in watching them bury their faces in electronic devices and plugging their ears with headphones. So we had a high grump factor as we began our day. But then, we listened to the story From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler during the car trip, both directions, and lo and behold, they all loved it. This is a great story, so I guess I'm offering up a second Recommended Reading (or Listening).
The day was great. The traffic at the tail end nearly killed me. I can't wait to go back.
My youngest asked me this week: "Mommy, how does a person come from another person if the person the new person comes from is already in the world?"
Translation: how are babies made?
I think she was confused because we had been talking a few days earlier about how we all come from God. So she's thinking something like: "Wait. A baby comes from God? I thought a baby comes from a mommy. And a mommy is here, not in Heaven with God. So what's the deal with that?"
I told her that it's kind of like planting a seed, and that God (!) plants that seed inside a mommy, and then the baby grows from there. She said:
"I don't get it."
I tried again with basically the same idea. She said:
"I don't get it! How does a plant become a person?"
I tried to explain that the seed in question is not a plant seed, that it's a person seed. She said:
"Whatever. Can I have some candy?"
Yes, sweet Jesus, yes!
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Please visit the 7 Quick Takes host at Conversion Diary, follow a few links to other Quick Takers, and throw out a comment or two.
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