“A dainty little daffodil
Turns her head in glee
For everywhere she looks,
She sees green and growing trees!
Her yellow friends sprout in wonder,
Seeking bright light from the sun,
Their golden faces smiling
For springtime has begun.”
By Donna Frank
Our yard is getting to be a riot of color. We have probably 50 purple and a few yellow crocuses. We now have two gorgeous yellow daffodils. The tulips don’t have flowers as yet, but the unopened buds look promising. Hubby has put potting soil around each of our many rosebushes. Across the street, daughter Sue has hundreds of snowdrops, in probably six different areas. Hubby and I planted them about 40 years ago when we owned her home. Our Irish priest, Fr. John McCarthy, told us that in Ireland, snowdrops are called St. Brigid’s Footsteps.
St. Brigid must have been all over Sue’s yard. The snowdrops are everywhere. We must buy some more pansies. We just have one six-pack of yellow ones. I love the copper-colored ones. Hubby has already bought some metal poles to replace the wood that was broken by the heavy snow on our front rose trellis. It needs a complete overhaul. Gardening expert Paul Parent told us that the lily is not the preferred flower for Easter. It is the tulip. It is also time now for impatiens. They usually are around on Mother’s Day. Sadly, I don’t hear Paul on any Boston radio station any more.
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Last Saturday, I told pal Joan Hill about the mourning dove that we heard when we went to Confession two weeks ago. As I was telling her, what appeared on the roof of our church but the mourning dove itself. The bird gave its “coo, coo, coo” about three times and then flew away. The next day, Hubby and I were outside our own home, looking at our flowers. We heard one mourning dove and then heard a second one in response to the first. We are thrilled that we have two in our neighborhood. Daughter Sue has heard several cardinals around our homes. They are very loud. We have also heard a mockingbird, which emitted all kinds of calls.
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Last Friday, daughter Sue took us to Brockton where she shops when she takes her Aunt Peg to a doctor’s appointment. She showed us where gas was much cheaper. Hubby filled up our car. Then she took us to the Franciscan Chapel at the Westgate Mall. I had lost my one-decade rosary, which I have carried in my purse for quite a few years. Sue showed me where the mini-rosaries were in the store and I bought one for myself and one for her. They were very reasonable. I also bought a St. Barbara medal. I even purchased a prayer card of St. Thomas Aquinas for Hubby. He went to St. Thomas Aquinas School in J.P. It is worth a trip to Westgate Mall, both for the Market Basket store and for the Franciscan Chapel. There is a noon Mass at the chapel. I will check to see if the noon Mass is celebrated every day or just weekdays.
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When I came into church last Saturday, I learned that our friend Theresa Chatman’s sister, Ann Lewis, was very ill. I told Theresa how sorry I was to hear that. Then, during the week, I received a call from fellow parishioner Joan Hill that Ann had passed away. Her wake was to be held at St. Katharine Drexel church on Blue Hill Avenue at 9 a.m. on Saturday, with the funeral Mass following at 10. We knew where St. Katharine’s church was because two of my cousins, Kathy and her brother/my godson Philip, sing in the Black Catholic Choir. (They are the only two with red hair.) Hubby and I had already been to several concerts by the choir at the church.
Sr. Elizabeth and Dorothy Harris drove to the church with us. We luckily found a parking space in the church lot. Because I had to work on Saturday, we would not be able to stay for the Mass or to go the cemetery, so we sat near the back of the church. We did go up front to greet Ann’s family. Our family joins Fr. George and all of our fellow parishioners at St. Christopher’s in sending our sympathy to her sister, Theresa Chatman. Ann was the wife of John Lester Lewis, the mother of Linda, Eunice (Systah), John Michael, Robin, Stacey, and Kevin Lewis Sr., and sister-in-law of Alma White, and had a multitude of grandchildren and great grandchildren.
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What a nice time Hubby and I had at the celebration of Fr. George Carrigg’s 58th anniversary of ordination on Saturday evening, March 21. There was an equal number of adults and children attending. It was a potluck supper so daughter Sue and I made potato salad. We met Dorothy Harris outside church and asked her what she had made. There were big smiles on our faces as we walked into church. Dorothy had made her scrumptious lasagna. Inside the hall, which was decorated for Father’s celebration, we found our church pals Sharon and Theresa, who were sitting with Jean Every. John Dempsey also joined us. We were treated to appetizers when we first went in the hall. Then the religious ed children sang a song in tribute to Fr. George. We all had fun with the song “If You’re Happy and You Know It.” A young girl, Laisha Baez, played selections on the piano. Zebeida Diaz recited a poem to Fr. George: “Why Do We Tip Our Hats to a Priest?” We then all sang, “You Are My Sunshine.” We joined in on a sing-a-long, thanks to the lyrics printed in our program. During a break, I went over to speak with Dorothy Harris. Two of her family were there: Linda (“pretty” in Spanish) Mendes and Ruth “Bunny” Barboza
Fr. George then cut the beautiful cake. The sugar in the cake gave new energy to the guests. People were dancing to the music. Then Louise Tardif organized musical chairs for the kids, and then for the adults. Both were lots of fun. Then there was more dancing. We laughed when our friend Theresa got out on the dance floor and danced better than any of us. We even have a photo of her almost squatting on the floor. I couldn’t do that 40 years ago. I’d need a tow rope to pull myself up at this stage of my life!
We knew that Fr. George was quite the gardener. He has planted vegetable gardens and even blueberry bushes. He takes good care of his Star Magnolia tree, which is almost ready to bloom right now on the front lawn on the church. Sr. Elizabeth’s Montessori School children gave him the Star Magnolia tree years ago because it is the first magnolia to bloom each spring. As we looked over the program booklet, we wondered why the Irish song “Molly Malone” was in the booklet. Of course, we figured it was for his heritage. Then Father explained: “To keep our good-sized family fed during the Depression, my father peddled fish to earn money. He was a fishmonger, a dealer in fish, just like Molly Malone.” We were all amazed at that story.
At the end of the evening, we all helped to clean up the hall. It was a lovely ending to Father’s 58th anniversary of ordination. We were so happy that the party was held in March after being postponed by a big snowstorm in February.
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With so many families going south to Disney World this school-vacation week, this seems like an appropriate thought by Walt Disney: “The way to get started is to quit talking and begin doing.”
