Novena of Grace

It has become a tradition for my family, that when we gather for Christmas, we each blindly reach into a bag containing the names of many saints and pick one. The chosen saint becomes that person’s patron for the year. We learn about our saint and ask for their prayers and intercession throughout the year. Saints are our friends in heaven and we all hope to join them in heavenly adoration of our Lord one day.

My patron saint of 2023 is Saint Francis Xavier and I have to admit, I knew little of him. After doing some internet searching, I found that Saint Francis Xavier was born in 1506 in the Castle of Xavier in Navarre, Spain. He was one of the founders of the Society of Jesus, which is known as the Jesuits today. He is the patron saint of Catholic Missions, as he successfully converted many to the faith. Before he died in 1552, he made a great effort to convert the Japanese, but found it to be very difficult. He was canonized by Pope Gregory XV in 1622.

I also learned that St. Francis Xavier was the patron saint of Alexandria, Louisiana, where a Cathedral bears his name. I was delighted to learn about this Cathedral, which is less than two hours away from my home, and I vowed to make a pilgrimage to visit.

A few weeks ago, my husband and I planned on visiting Alexandria on a weekend, but I fell ill with a head cold that had me knocked down for a couple of weeks. Finally feeling better and having a free weekend, my husband and I planned to make the drive today, Saturday, March 4th.

Yesterday, I pulled up the Cathedral website and noticed that on the first Saturday of the month, a First Saturday Mass was celebrated at 9am. Perfect! We left our neighborhood at 7am sharp on a beautiful sunny morning. We arrived at the Cathedral early and had time to walk around gazing at its majesty. St. Francis Xavier Cathedral was dedicated on November 30, 1899.

We arrived in time for adoration and the rosary. When it was quiet, I pulled out my prayer book from my purse. I had picked up a St. Francis Xavier prayer card and stuck it in the book. I began to read the novena on the prayer card. When I concluded the prayer, I was astonished to read the novena should be started on March 4th! God’s providence never ceases to amaze me! My husband and I had not originally planned the trip on March 4th and were unaware of the novena dates – and here we were in St. Francis Xavier Cathedral praying the novena on March 4th!

When I arrived back home today, I once again pulled up information on the internet about this novena, which originated in the 1600’s following the canonization of St. Francis Xavier. During that time, an elaborate structure was built for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in the College of Naples. Father Mastrilli was supervising the removal of the massive structure, when a worker from above, dropped a hammer that fell directly on Father Mastrilli’s head causing a deadly wound. At that time, St. Francis Xavier, appeared to Father Mastrilli, asking him to renew the vow to return to Japan for mission work adding that “All who implore my help daily for 9 consecutive days, from the fourth of March to the twelfth of March, inclusive and worthily receive the Sacrament of Penance and Holy Communion on one of those nine days will experience my protection and may hope with entire assurance to obtain from God any Grace they ask that is for the good of their souls and the Glory of God.” Father Mastrilli was fully healed and spread this message and novena prayer, which came to be known as the Novena of Grace.

Novena Prayer

Most amiable and most loving Saint Francis Xavier, in union with thee I reverently adore the Divine Majesty. I rejoice exceedingly on account of the marvelous gifts which God bestowed upon thee. I thank God for the special graces He gave thee during thy life on earth and for the great glory that came to thee after thy death. I implore thee to obtain for me, through thy powerful intercession, the greatest of all blessings — that of living and dying in the state of grace. I also beg of thee to secure for me the special favor I ask in this novena…..

(Mention requests)

In asking this favor, I am fully resigned to the Divine Will. I pray and desire only to obtain that which is most conducive to the greater glory of God and the greater good of my soul.

V. Pray for us, Saint Francis Xavier.

R. That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.

O God, Who didst vouchsafe, by the preaching and miracles of Saint Francis Xavier, to join unto Thy Church the nations of the Indies, grant, we beseech Thee, that we who reverence his glorious merits may also imitate his example, through Jesus Christ Our Lord. Amen

3 Our Father’s and 3 Hail Mary’s in memory of Saint Francis Xavier’s devotion to the Most Holy Trinity;
Glory be 10 times in thanksgiving for the graces received during his 10 years of apostleship.

C’est Bon,

Love,

Sherry

Granny’s Legacy

When I introduced my mother to the man that was to be my husband, she smiled and told him, “I gave you your first bath!” We both learned that day my mother was the labor and delivery nurse the day my husband was born. Our two mothers were destined to cross paths many times over the years as their firstborns married and gave them grandchildren.

To say our mothers were Catholic would be an understatement! Our mothers lived and breathed their faith. My husband and I both grew up in a Catholic home with mothers who were Mount Carmel Academy graduates. Our mothers would sprinkle holy water around the house during bad weather, pray to Saint Anthony when something important went missing, and dutifully prayed the rosary daily.

My mother-in-law, affectionally known as Granny, took an active role in being a spiritual mother to her family. She taught her grandchildren to pray the rosary among other prayers. My children and all her grandchildren have wonderful memories of attending mass and receiving sacraments with their Granny. She began hosting weekly family rosaries which laid a solid foundation of faith and family in each of our hearts. She taught me how to be a more faith-filled mother and grandmother for my children and grandchildren. She taught us all how to love Jesus and His mother, Mary, and imitate them in our lives by seeking God’s Will. She has been the heart and soul of our family.

Granny showed me how to face adversity and suffering in life with grace and hope. Even though her illness robbed her each day of her independence while adding to her pain and suffering; when asked how she was doing, she would always smile and answer, “I am having a good day”. Her smile was contagious. The last gift she gave me was to reassure me of God’s presence in my life. During her last weeks here, she asked me to bend my head close to her so that I could hear her faint voice. It brought me great joy to hear her say that she loved me like a daughter. She went on to say that everything had worked out like God had planned and that made her very happy.

There is a photo I love of my mother and mother-in-law at my son’s wedding. They are sitting side by side with heads bent toward each other in conversation. Some time after the wedding, my mother relayed to me Granny had quietly told her, “Who would have thought when you were delivering my baby that the two of us would be sitting together fifty years later in St. John’s Cathedral, about to watch our grandson marry.” My husband was the man God planned for me. From the moment he was born, his mother was also destined to become my mother. She has been a precious gift to my family.

This past week has been a week of grief, sorrow, holiness, prayer and reflection as our family spent time with Granny for the last time on earth. My mother is too frail now to leave home, but she called me daily to reassure us she was praying rosaries and thinking of all of us. It is tremendously hard to watch a loved one suffer. I found myself in my prayers telling the Lord enough was enough. I started to question His motives as I watched a beautiful, faith-filled woman slowly wither away.

Fridays in the Catholic Church is a day of sorrow in remembrance of the Passion of Christ. This past Friday morning I had a talk with Father before mass and confessed that I was telling God what He should be doing instead of trusting in Him and His Will. Father gave me words of encouragement and told me to go to Mother Mary that day, saying “Let Mary take you to the cross.” God knew Father’s words were exactly what I needed to hear. God did not stop there, on the ride after mass, while listening to Catholic radio, I learned about Anselm of Canterbury, a mystic from the medieval period who was given the gift of seeing Christ’s passion through the eyes of Mary. One of the swords which pierced the heart of Mary was meeting up with her Son while He carried His cross. Jesus lovingly thanked Mary for being a wonderful mother and for always taking such good care of Him while allowing Him to follow the will of His Father. Suffering is never in vain; the Cross led to the Resurrection. I had to trust my Father in heaven and know that as my mother-in-law had told me, God has a plan. It was on the eve of this special day that our Granny was called home.

She leaves behind a legacy. I will continue to host family rosaries. I will encourage more families to do the same. I will share my faith and trust in the Lord in good times and in times of sorrow.

Yesterday my mother called and asked that I stop by her home, saying she had something for us. She handed my husband and I an envelope and expressed her sympathy for our loss. On the ride home, I opened my mother’s envelope and found some cash with a note it was for masses intended for Granny. These two mothers’ paths will cross again one day. I have no doubt there is a special place in heaven for mothers who follow God’s Will and devote their lives to caring for not just the physical needs but also the spiritual needs of the souls of their children and grandchildren.

Thank you Granny for your love, lessons, and legacy. You will forever be cherished in our hearts and souls!

Love,

Sherry

My Friend Shirley

I was a young mother moving away from my home of south Louisiana to Virginia where my husband was stationed with the US Navy.  The year was 1988 and there were no cell phones, home computers or GPS devices.  It was a new life in a big city with no family or friends for hundreds of miles.

 My husband would be traversing mostly onboard the USS Shreveport; I had to figure out how to navigate an unknown area with two children under four years old.  My solution was to look up addresses of businesses in a phone book.  I then located the address on a city map and mapped out a route from my location to my destination.  I was able to find my way to the grocery store, medical facilities, church and so on.  I am a person with no sense of direction, so I felt quite accomplished with myself!  My first year in Virginia, I was a stay- at- home mom getting acquainted with new surroundings and reassuring my little ones that this new, strange land was safe and was now home.

A year later, during one of my husband’s deployments, I felt secure enough to venture out into the workforce.  After obtaining a sitter for the kids, I walked up the steps to Sussex Apartments’ office and met my future boss/friend, Shirley.

My first impression was – this is not going to work out!  I found Shirley to be nothing like anyone I had ever met.  Here I was, this short, conservative, modest, Catholic wife and mother; there was Shirley, a platinum blonde, heavy make-up and spike high heel wearing divorcee – we were the very definition of opposites!  Looking back on that moment, I imagine it was comical to behold!  She carried herself with such elegance and self-confidence; I knew I had just met a force to be reckon with!

Always polite, I carried on a conversation with Shirley and smiled while she ranted about her current assistant, who she described as “drab and depressing.”  She complimented my smile and thought out loud that I would be such a welcome change to the office.  I left that interview not knowing what the heck just happened!  Shirley and I seemed to hit it off and talk effortlessly – I saw something in her that I lacked, and she evidently saw something in me.  Before long, I was sitting at the front desk and working daily with the ever surprising and bodacious Shirley!

Why the two of us got along so well is still a mystery!  I had two little kids at home and an early bedtime. She had two Russian wolfhounds and no bedtime.  She dressed to kill every day and flirted with every man that walked in the door, married and unmarried alike.  I was friendly and sweet with everyone, but always was careful to keep my distance.  She walked into a room and lit it up with her presence; I was shy and quiet trying not to bring attention to myself.  She visited psychics and was very New Age.  I loved my Catholic faith and had never been exposed to such things. We were worlds apart as far as personality; yet for a time, she was my dearest friend and confidant. 

Shirley had a huge heart!  She genuinely cared about her staff and residents.  I watched her cry over employee firings and rejoice at our accomplishments.  A lonely, elderly neighbor to our office was visited almost every evening by Shirley.  I accompanied her once or twice while the gentleman served us cake and talked about his wife that had passed.  

My best memories of Shirley are from Christmas. Shirley absolutely loved Christmas!  She took great care to decorate for the Christmas season and was a gracious hostess to our Christmas party.  The season of giving just delighted her to no end. 

I still love that dear woman to this day – even though I have not seen her since my family moved back to Louisiana – thirty years ago!  I was just in my mid-twenties then and Shirley and I made plans to visit over the years; but life is just so busy that it never happened.  Each year for Christmas, I receive Virginia salt-water taffy from my friend, and I ship out some Louisiana gumbo to Virginia.   We exchange Christmas cards and catch up once a year.  Since I have seen Shirley, I had a third child, and watched my children graduate and get married.  I am now a grandmother and have a blessed life with my love of thirty-seven years and our dog, Archie.  Shirley, now retired, has been a mother to many fur babies over the years.  I have numerous photos of her rescues who were treated to a wonderful dog life!

The time I spent in Virginia was intimidating – I was a fish out of water.  My friend, Shirley, took me under her wing and filled my days with laughter while listening to her escapades.  Whenever I think of her, I smile, and that has to be the most wonderful compliment I could give anyone – you make me smile!

Merry Christmas Shirley and thank you for the taffy!

Your friend still,

Sherry

Shirley, 1989

Missing 1976

A celebration of the Bicentennial of the United States of America was everywhere in 1976. Logos and labels on commercial products were red, white, and blue. Sports’ jerseys proudly displayed the Bicentennial logo. There were parades, exhibits and special performances to celebrate the birth of the nation. Locally, there were flags on homes and red, white, and blue painted mailboxes.

President Gerald Ford, on the morning of July 4, 1976, sailed down the Hudson River aboard the USS Wainwright and Johnny Cash headed up the U.S. Bicentennial parade. Meanwhile, in New Iberia, Louisiana, the Poirrier family held it’s annual Fourth of July picnic. My mother hosted the family picnic and due to the special celebration; the 1976 picnic was a day to remember! Many cousins, aunts, uncles and family friends showed up to celebrate. The day was filled with family fun and food. There were many competitions for us children. I competed in all of them from the three-legged race and long jump to the bubble gum blowing contest. Mom had painstakingly hand-made patriotic plaques for all the lucky winners. I was small and agile those days and showing off my speed. It was a beautiful day!

The men were grilling and enjoying a cold brew. The women were setting the food out on picnic tables and fussing at any kids who were misbehaving. The air was filled with the smell of bar-b-que and the sound of laughter. That afternoon, there was a family baseball game that was as competitive as the Yankees and Red Sox! We returned home in the dark and sat in lawn chairs in the front yard, watching fireworks light up the sky. We were tired, sated with happiness and proud to be an American! Life was good! The family was so appreciative of my mother’s efforts that year, that they pulled together and bought her a professionally made plaque thanking her for the joy of that day.

This memory of mine seems such a stark contrast to the America I see today. We seem to have forgotten the sacrifice of our founding fathers and those who shed blood so that their children and grandchildren could live in a country of freedoms. Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, and freedom of the pursuit of happiness came at a great cost. No other nation on earth has created opportunity for generations as this great nation. Has the journey been perfect? Absolutely not – but, then again, there is no perfect in this world. The founding fathers of this nation were given Divine inspired words which formed the Declaration of Independence.

“We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness- that to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed..”

We must teach our children and grandchildren these truths. This new generation should understand how proud they should be of what this great nation has accomplished. 2026 will bring about the 250th birthday of this land that I love. It is my hope that I will once again see the enthusiasm and patriotism of 1976!

C’est Bon!

Sherry

God Bless the United States of America!

Sherry, 1976, Dodson Elementary

Building Family and Faith

Many years ago, my children and I were spending the day at my parents’ home, (Maw-maw and Paw-paw), while my husband was busy at work. Paw-paw was busy building a folding camping table that day. My four-year-old, Brennan, stood nearby closely watching his grandfather measuring, sawing and nailing. My dad proudly showed off his carpentry skills for his grandson, who was thoroughly engrossed with the transformation of wood and nails into a fine piece of furniture. When the table was completed, my son ran over to me and Maw-maw and brought us over to see what his grandfather had accomplished. He boldly told his Paw-paw, “When my daddy grows up, he will be able to build too!” My husband drove up right at that moment as we were all chuckling over my son’s comment. He also got a big kick out of it!

This memory reminds me of St. Joseph. I can imagine Jesus as a little four-year-old boy watching his father work with wood; measuring, carving, and creating. As a young child, Jesus would have had that same wonderment as Brennan in seeing the transformation of wood into objects and furniture. He would have looked up to His father, St. Joseph, and would grow up learning the craft, assisting His father.

Not all men are skilled in carpentry, but all fathers are builders. It takes a loving and strong man to build his family, to protect them and guide them as spiritual leaders. St. Joseph is our model of a self-sacrificing husband and father. He did whatever was needed to keep his wife and Son safe, whether it meant finding shelter in a cave or fleeing for a strange land in the middle of the night. He was a man with tremendous faith and he built a Holy Family.

I grew up with a father who was a “jack-of-all-trades”. He could build and fix anything. I was the oldest of four girls and did not appreciate the many skills of my father when I was a girl. I thought at the time it was something all fathers could do. Seeing my father through my children’s eyes, I had a newfound appreciation of his creativity and craftsmanship. Today I look back at the times my father took on huge construction projects such as adding a third bedroom and utility room to our home and I realize he was not just building a home, he was showing his love for his wife and children. Taking time every Sunday to take our family to Mass and visit our grandparents, was my dad’s way of building faith in his family.

My wonderful husband is not a carpenter, but he is a builder. From the moment we left the church as man and wife, he has devoted his whole self and life to our marriage and family. My children, grandkids and I have always felt his love, devotion and protection. Years ago, he was involved with his boys as a football coach; today he leads his children and grandchildren in the rosary on first Fridays.

Looking back on that memory of Brennan, I do see now that his father did grow. We both grew as parents and now as grandparents. His father is a builder of family and of faith. I hope our grandkids look at us just as I saw Brennan look at my dad those years ago, with wonderment and with love.

Brennan with Paw-paw and Maw-maw

Bless my Socks!

I was very lucky to grow up in a home with a mom who was a graduate of Mount Carmel Academy for girls in New Iberia, Louisiana.  In 1870, the Sisters of Mount Carmel opened the school in New Iberia and remained until 1988.  The Sisters of Mount Carmel are religious women dedicated to an active ministry of pre-school, education, spiritual direction and social services.  During my mother’s tenure in the forties and fifties, the Sisters were the primary administrators and teachers at the academy and passed on a very traditional Catholic faith.  Students were taught the importance of the mass, sacraments, praying the rosary, and the blessing of sacramentals.  Students took pride in being chaste and virtuous.   Father Joseph Chauvin wrote, “For is not every Carmel a garden of God where lovely blossoms of virtue bloom?”

It was evident growing up that my mother was in love with God and with the mother of God.  Our house always had a statue of Mary in a front flower bed.  Just as she had assisted one of the Sisters at Mount Carmel with painting statues during her high school years; my mother would lovingly clean and paint her statues if they became weather-worn and dull.  She kept blessed objects in our home and holy water.  There were numerous times during a stormy night, I would see my mother running around our home sprinkling holy water for protection.  Her rosary was kept beside her bed and she always ended her day with her rosary and prayers.  I watched her light candles in church for a special intention or in thanksgiving.  She often spoke of the saints, especially St. Anthony and Theresa.  My mother lived her Catholic faith and she made sure her husband and four girls, (while we were still under their roof), lived it with her.

One’s faith either grows or withers away.  Due to the great foundation given to her by the Sisters of Mount Carmel, mom’s faith has never wavered.  She and my father are now retired and live a quiet life.  Even though they are part of the high risk group during this pandemic, they still live their faith by watching mass daily on TV and spending time each day in prayer and reflection.  The two of them turn 80 this year!

We celebrated mom turning eighty in July.  For one of her presents, I bought her some religious socks.  A local Catholic gift shop had a selection of socks with designs such as Mary, Joseph and St. Theresa.  After much thought, I settled on a pair of rosary socks and Mary socks for mom.  I knew that she loved wearing socks and would get a kick out these!  She was surprised and very pleased with her gift.  She was so pleased, that later that evening I received a phone call from mom telling me that she would be bringing her new socks to her local priest for him to bless them!  This really tickled me!  I laughed and told her, “Mom, I do not think anyone has ever asked Father to bless their socks!”.  Mom went on to say that I was to make sure she was buried in her blessed Mary socks!

The Catechism teaches: “Among sacramentals, blessings (of persons, meals, objects, and places) comes first. Every blessing praises God and prays for His gifts. In Christ, Christians are blessed by God the Father, with every spiritual blessing.”  Sacramentals “are sacred signs which bear a resemblance to the sacraments. They signify effects, particularly of a spiritual nature, which are obtained through the intercession of the Church. By them, men are disposed to receive the chief effect of the sacraments, and various occasions in life are rendered holy.”.

A mother never stops being a mother.  Mary was Jesus’ mom not just on earth; she is His mother in heaven.  Because we have now become children of God and brother and sisters of Christ, Mary is now too our mother in heaven.  Even though I am now a mother and grandmother, my mother is still mom.  She is still teaching me how to live my Catholic faith.  She is still setting an example for her family and showing us the way to heaven.  I only hope I am doing the same for my children.

Well, I will be giving socks for Christmas this year.  Oh, and they will be blessed!

Love,

Sherry

 

Lizards have blankets

My childhood was filled with imagination and fun fantasy thanks to my mom.

I remember going to bed at night and peeking out from under the covers ever so often, hoping to see the “Sand Man”.   I was told that the Sand Man came every night.  He had a bucket full of sand and would fasten the eyelids together of all little children with sand, so that they would have a good night’s sleep.  It made perfect sense to this little girl, who awoke each morning with a crusty-sand-like mixture in her eyes.  I felt this “Sand Man” was extremely aggressive and rude.  I tried and tried to stay awake long enough to get a glimpse of him, but he was too elusive!

My mom could talk to lizards.  We spent a lot of time outside in those days before computers and video games.  Occasionally we would come across a nice green lizard.  Mom would make sure we would stop in our tracks and be very quiet and still.  She would then, in a very authoritative voice, say “Lizard, Lizard, show me your blanket!”  We watched with eager anticipation, and sure enough, that lizard would pump out a great pink blanket from under its belly!  We were so amazed!  Our mother was just so magical in me and my sister’s eyes!

Of course we heard lots of stories about the tooth fairy, Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny.  The Tooth Fairy was one of my favorites. She was a little mouse fairy that flew around gathering little children’s teeth to make her mouse furniture.  I could picture a cute little mouse with wings, a tutu and wand.  But as hard as I tried, I could not imagine why anyone would want furniture made out of teeth!  How uncomfortable!

Role playing and imagination were vital to entertainment in those days.  My friend next door and I played house with our baby dolls.  I had loads of Barbie dolls.  These dolls had a camper, vehicle, and even an airplane!  Mom showed me how to take an ordinary cardboard box and using crayons, transform it into a Barbie house by drawing pictures on the wall and of course furniture! These hand-made houses were more fun than the already made vehicles.  I can remember playing “Ms. America” and answering the all important interview question.  We acted out our favorite movies like “Mary Poppins”.   Making up games was of no consequence.  Our little minds were just brimming with ideas and creativity.

According to mom, loud repeated thunder was God moving furniture.  I did not think God had furniture made from teeth.  I was sure it was gold and heavy – hence the loud thunder!  Mom talked quite a bit about God, Mary, the Saints and angels.  We knew our guardian angel was always watching over us.  We said our prayers every night, talking to God with Mom.  There was not a doubt in my mind that God knew everything I did.  If I did anything that I thought would make my parents mad;  I was also worried that God was mad.  He was a very real part of my life.

I eventually grew up and gave up the games and fantasy.  I never gave up my faith in God and my friends in Heaven.

In some way trusting in imagination leads to lessons in having faith.  Teaching a child to believe in mouse fairies and lizard blankets may seem childish and unproductive, but it is just the opposite.  A child is naturally inclined by innocence to believe.  Children look up to their parents and when a parent embraces the world of the unknown and unseen, a child is taught to have faith.  They understand  that not everything can be seen or touched or fully understood.

At a certain age, I knew there was no Sand Man lurking in the dark corners of my bedroom.  I gave up baby dolls and eventually had three real babies of my own.  I learned the real meaning of Christmas and Easter which has nothing to do with elves and baskets.  I never gave up my faith in God and my friends in Heaven.  I never gave up those evening talks with God.  Although I cannot see Him, I feel His presence and know that He is watching and guiding me and my family.

When I hear parents or teachers today complaining about a child’s imagination, I get sad.  The secular world wants to do away with imagination and fantasy play.  The secular world wants children to believe only in what can be seen and proved.  The secular world does not want to hear about babies in the womb having a soul or that people with disabilities are vital and have purpose.  The secular world does not want to hear about God or Jesus or Mary or Angels or Hell or anything of the spiritual realm.  It has an agenda that robs children of innocence and a proper childhood.

So, this summer, sit with your kids and watch Mary Poppins then act out your favorite scenes.  Take a walk outside and make your child giggle when you make a lizard show his blanket.  Look for fireflies and call them “lost fairies” looking for their home.  Then put your little one to bed and say a goodnight prayer to God together.

But you can leave out the Sand Man. He is too creepy!

C’est Bon,

Love,

Sherry

 

You are my memories

 

So, it has occurred to me that my two most recent posts had to do with my two youngest sisters.  I have one more sister and it would not be right to not tell her story…

My sister, Debra, is less than four years younger than me.  My earliest memory is of her.  I was three and half and very much an only child.  I was not a brave child.  I spent every night climbing into my mother’s bed in the middle of the night crying for her attention.  Suddenly, my world turned upside-down!  For the first time I was spending the night at the home of my Uncle Pat and Aunt Evelyn and two cousins, Patricia and Nancy.

I can still see myself sitting on their living room floor watching The Beverly Hillbilly’s on a black and white TV.  My Aunt was rocking my youngest cousin, Nancy, to sleep.  Then my other cousin, Patricia, who had just made four-years-old was next.  I had not been rocked to sleep to my memory; but, when my cousins were in bed and my aunt asked if I would like to be rocked, I just nodded my head.  I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep and then was carried off to bed.

Sometime during the night I awoke.  I was not at my house.  I had no mother’s bed nearby to crawl into.  I began to cry.  My aunt took me to the restroom and gently but firmly told me I had to go to sleep.

I remember being in my pajamas in the morning, eating breakfast and seeing my dad throw open the door.  I was so glad to see him!  He had a huge smile on his face and he picked me up and hugged me.  I was told that I had a sister.  I don’t think I knew what that meant!

I remember being home just dad and I the next night.  He asked if I wanted to telephone mom.  I nodded yes.  He picked up the telephone and dialed the hospital.  Before I could talk to mom, he hung up the phone and said the nurse said she was sleeping.  Then mom finally came home!  I was so glad to see her.  I remember seeing her in bed, she had long dark hair and looked a little pale.  She was holding a small baby; I remember thinking it looked like one of my dolls.  I wanted to crawl into her bed, but I was told she had to feed the baby;  I was standing at her bedroom door when it was closed.

Being so little myself, I saw my little sister as somewhat of a bother.  I was not allowed back in mom and dad’s bed.  I had to take a back seat to this little person who certainly did not seem friendly- always crying and demanding mom’s attention!

I did not appreciate the special connection that had just taken place in my life.  We shared a mother and a father.  We shared blood, genes, and eye color.  We shared a room and secrets.  We shared vacations, clothes, toys….the list goes on and on. We fought – a lot.  She was brave and strong.  She was not interested in climbing out of bed to cry and run to mother; she was busting out of her baby bed and running out of the house! She was the tomboy, fighting and playing outside.  I could not understand her – but our bond was unique and everlasting.

We had very different likes and personalities, but sharing a room with someone for ten plus years forever imprints them on your heart.

I had two more sisters much later.  Some of my memories include my other two sisters.   ALL OF MY MEMORIES include my eldest, youngest sister, Debra.

My mother and father are two very strong, hard-headed people.  My sisters and I had no choice in receiving those genes!  Debra is the strongest.  She left home after she graduated high school and joined the Navy.  She worked overseas for four years and returned home to marry and receive a nursing degree.  She has raised two very fine boys.

When you are little, you don’t realize the impact people have on you.  My sister, Debra, was always making me strive to be a little bit more strong, a little bit more athletic, a little bit more brave.  I never took the time to say thank you and appreciate her qualities.

So thank you Debra for sharing in my memories!  They are good memories made better because they were shared with you!

C’est Bon,

Love,

Sherry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sisterly Love

I was fifteen years old when my youngest sister was born.  She was not yet four years old when I was married and moved out of the house.  I had less than four years of living with her as a sister.

By the time she was six, I had two children.  My little sister was one of the kids. Life was busy and there was not a lot of time to spend quality time together.

My husband and children and I moved several states away for a few years.  When I returned back to my home state, my sister was ten years old.  Time flew.  I watched her quickly become a teenager and graduate high school.  I always felt robbed of those sister years.  She felt more like one of my kids; yet I was not her mother.

But, God always has a plan.

In 2002 my sister and I became co-workers.  This is a very sad day for me because today is the last of our working days together.  For the last thirteen years we have worked together almost daily.  Through these daily interactions, something magical happened…

We fought with other.  We fought for each other.  We cried together.  We shared happy times together…

For the last thirteen years, we became SISTERS!

God gave me such a precious gift.  I have watched my little sister grow into a fine, confident young woman, wife and mother.  She is one of the strongest women I know.

I am so proud of her.

I treasure the time God gave us.  It has made my time with her complete.

This next year will bring many changes.  She will have a new career and a new baby.  But she will always have me for her sister!

I love you Christi!

C’est Bon

Love,

Sherry

 

 

Highway to Hell

My husband and I like old music.  We like most of the music from the

seventies and sixties, whether it be rock, country, pop, blues, …

A couple of weeks ago we had the TV on and the Grammys had just started.  We do not watch the Grammys; however AC/DC started the show so we thought we’d watch a little.

It ran through my mind the moment the show started that it was so sad how satan has taken over the music industry.  Music has changed in my opinion, and not for the better.

Not long after having this thought, AC/DC begins singing “Highway to Hell” and the entire audience had glowing red devil horns on their heads.  It was an ugly confirmation to what music has become…a mockery.

It is believed by many that lucifer was a very high ranking angel in charge of the ministry of music.  I believe there is beautiful music in heaven; music that glorifies our Lord.  Here on earth, our music can either glorify God or not.  It is sad to see that so many famous and glorified music talent of today choose to glorify sex, drugs, violence…anything but God.

Think about it.  God created the angels with specific jobs in mind.  There was one angel who was given great beauty and wisdom.  This angel was to always be in God’s presence and had the great responsibility of keeping the beautiful flow of godly music throughout the heavens.  Next God creates man in His own image.  Man has an immortal soul and is made to one day share in God’s divine nature.  The angles became man’s protector, guide and servant.  Out of jealousy of man, one angel with much power headed a rebellion against the Creator.

What did God do?  Those angels were cast out of heaven.  God sent His only Son to save mankind.  Jesus was tempted by the evil one just as we are tempted.  He was promised riches and control over all of the world.  Jesus instead took up a cross and allowed Himself to be murdered rather than go against His Father.

The devil is very cunning.  He has been very patient and has gradually diluted man’s sense of right and wrong.  He used his ministry of music to begin planting seeds of revolt.  I am not sure when exactly the change began.  My first memory of seeing talent stripped of any decency was Madonna.  She chose the name Madonna in mockery of Mary.  She then had hit after hit with songs that snubbed moral teachings.  Her aim was to be the exact opposite of the true Madonna, who was humble, respectful, holy and not just “like a virgin”; she is the perpetual virgin!  “Like a virgin’s” Madonna is rich and powerful. She has a huge following; but at what price?

Not all music is influenced by the devil.  God still has good angels.  There is music today that is wholesome and good.

So ask yourself- what music are you listening too?  What are the lyrics?  What are your children and grandchildren listening to?  Does your taste in music glorify our Lord?

I am sure that when the audience at the grammys had on their devil horns and were laughing and enjoying themselves; lucifer must have been laughing and enjoying it as well.  He only wants to lead man astray. He hates us.  We are the cause of his fall from the heavens.

Jesus who allowed Himself to be tortured and killed for our sins and transgressions, must have been very sad by this mockery.  His mother was probably shedding tears again.

Play some music in your home today.  Music that is good and decent.  Music that glorifies God, not man.

C’est Bon,

Love,

Sherry