Tag Archives: school

28 June: Shared Table X: Food Banks

tea42

More than a million 3 day emergency food parcels were given out by British food banks in 2015-2016. Read more about it here: what food banks do . This does not include parcels given directly by the Saint Vincent de Paul Society and other organisations.

I know people who have greatly benefited from this service. One mother often seems to have more teabags than she needs, but this means that she is able to share her surplus with others. That feels good!

Another interesting story was in The Observer on 4th December last. A Dublin organisation was able to establish deliveries of fresh food that a supermarket would have dumped to a women’s refuge. This abundance brought the women out of themselves and they began to share: to share food, to share a kitchen (I find that a real challenge!), to share recipes, to be good to each other.

Please pop a few cans into the collection baskets at your supermarket or church and help your local food bank keep going. Summertime, and the living will not be so easy when the children do not get their free school meals!

 

WT.

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under Daily Reflections

26 May: The Builder’s Dog without the Ossyrians, II. Silence amid the Noise.

Silence amid the Noise.4canal (10) (640x362)

From Will Turnstone’s personal blog.

Between 7.30 and 9.00 in the morning must be the noisiest time of day but most people have to filter out the noise, just to do what we have to. Young Abel often draws our attention to sirens, trains and loud machinery, but I did not need his advice this morning.

The Builder’s Dog is with us and needed his morning walk. Today he was sniffling round a shrub when I heard a woodpecker drumming somewhere nearby. Not that I saw him, but it’s a pleasure to hear him. Trying to place him – somewhere in the treetops – without binoculars was futile, but it made me aware of the din around me, even though I was some yards from the nearest road. The school playing field was being mown with a tractor and a mower; the main roads and inner ring road were still very busy, but a motorbike and ambulance stood out. There were trains and planes, and children winding down to go indoors for the morning.

But I could still hear the woodpecker. And the chaffinch and the blackcap … and the herring gulls and rooks overhead.

gullfk-640x530

Sometimes we must dive into whatever silence is around, even if no-one else can hear it, even if only for a moment. Oh, still small voice of calm.

But now it’s back to work! 1 Kings 19.12.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections

23 May: B is for Blacklion, Brocagh and Belcoo

Most readers will not have heard of the twin villages, Belcoo to the North, Blacklion to the South, of a river bridge across the Irish border. The river joins the two Loughs, or Lakes MacNean. Once upon a time I was a student in Blacklion, and each week went to the village school at Brocagh, a good walk from the college, to give the youngsters a catechism lesson.

brocaghschoola[1]

Sometime around 1970 the little 2 classroom schools were closed down and a new school built in Glenfarne village. In 2011 I shared this photograph of the school on thepelicans.org.uk website, and it was from Belcoo that Olivia O’Dolan identified many of the children, helped by Mary Brady-Timoney, her sisters Kathleen Brady-Keaney and Bridget Brady-Fitzpatrick with Ben McHugh and the Clancy family. Olivia and her family live in the old station house seen at the top of this post. Life goes on; at times it’s almost as if the border did not exist. These children’s cousins will have lived north and south, and things have been so much better in recent years; pray that life doesn’t deteriorate post-Brexit.

Mrs McCormack, the head teacher, (far right) gave me a valuable lesson, thanks to Joe McHugh, down there in the front row, hand to his brow.

One week after Easter we had John’s story of the barbecue by the lake after the miraculous catch of fish, and Peter’s final declaration of faith. I thought the lesson went well. The children drew some remarkable pictures, but Mrs McCormack drew my attention to Joe’s in particular: come here now, Joe, what’s this in the corner? – It’s Saint Peter’s lorry, Miss, come to carry away the fish. I’d missed the lorry completely; I’d not interpreted the shapes he’d drawn in 20th Century terms.

What she knew, but I did not, was that Joe’s family had recently acquired a lorry which was Joe’s pride and joy, so of course St Peter would have had his lorry ready to take the fish to market. The story made sense to Joe, and had always made more sense to me as a consequence; thank you Joe, wherever you are.

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections, PLaces

12 March, Human Will VIII: An Unexpected Reward for being less than 100% committed.

snowdrop-502x640

I trust Sister Johanna will allow me to continue reflecting on human will from another angle. WT.

Litter-picking is one of those fatigues that children in school resent. It’s one thing to pick up your own litter, another when it comes to other people’s. I try not to be resentful when I do my turn around our locality – turning over scraps of paper, bottles and cardboard coffee cups, instead of stones on the beach. But that’s more difficult when it comes to cigarette ends. (GRRRR!)

I tell myself the parable about the son who didn’t want to do what his father asked, while the other just made promises. Well, the first one: ‘afterwards, being moved with repentance, he went’. (Matthew 21:29).

My repentance was less than 100%! But a little reward came my way one day just before Christmas. Shining in a ray of winter sun, a very early snowdrop.

And better, surely, to do the job with a degree of anger than not at all? I was doing what I would have done had I been 100% repentant – and the job got done.

WT.

4 Comments

Filed under Daily Reflections, Laudato si'

Faith, Science and Teenagers

mercy.school (640x465)

Another gem from the Vatican Observatory’s blog site. Constance L. Martin-Trembley teaches science to teenagers, and has to help her students with the challenges posed when science meets rigidly held beliefs in the literal truth of the Bible. She has panache! Follow the link to read her

avatar

Musings

WT

Leave a comment

Filed under Interruptions

14 February: Mockery

skull-640x343

Just a few weeks after the children’s festival, a new academic year began at the University. During Freshers’ Week the newly-arrived keen students who have just survived Sixth Form pressures and A level exams, are encouraged to develop lively leisure activities alongside their chosen Degree courses. A Fresher’s Fair is a chance for all sorts of university clubs to win over a good number of students to this or that hobby. Here is one example, a Paintball shooting club. As seen here, human beings are presented as dividing into aggressive friends and unwelcome enemies. The idea of slaughtering an enemy is part of this so-called “game”. A mock human skull can be lifted up at the end to foster pride in the possibility of sneering (symbolically) at a corpse.

During the Vietnam War in the late Sixties and Early Seventies, some religious writers, both Buddhist and Christian, collaborated in calling for pacifist symbolism to be given a genuine hearing. The need for an agreed symbolism of non-violent resistance was what brought together the Jesuit Daniel Berrigan and the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh. Nhat Hanh wrote and spoke about resistance meaning “more than resistance against war. It is a resistance against all kinds of things that are like war. Because living in modern society one feels he cannot easily retain integrity, wholeness. One is robbed permanently of humanness, the capacity of being oneself… So perhaps, first of all, resistance means opposition to being invaded, occupied, assaulted, and destroyed by the system.”  It means refusing to join in all sorts of mockery, even in play, that treats others as disposable rubbish.  [See their co-authored book: The Raft is Not the Shore.]

 

Chris D.

Jan. 2017.

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections

11 January: Open Heart, Open Mind II: A Nasty Piece of Work.

 

 

Traveler

No apologies if I’ve told this story before; but it is good to start the year with an open heart and open mind which I certainly needed to one year.

This was a school year and I was starting a new job. My superior was running through the register of ‘my’ form of 16 year olds, jabbing a sharp-nailed index finger at Cormac’s name: ‘Watch him, he’s a nasty piece of work.’

I wished I’d not heard those words but tried to keep an open mind. Cormac turned out to be a bit of a bully, something of a leader, a lunchtime absconder and a smoker. To deal with the last problem first, I kept a tube of extra strong mints in my pocket. He could not smell his after-lunch breath, but if I could others would. The other little difficulties were alleviated a little when he and his fellow smoker were referred to me for a misdemeanour even I could not ignore, so detention slips were duly written and handed out.

After lessons they appeared with strong evidence of their innocence – on this occasion. ‘I could count this against all the times you should have had after school detention but didn’t, or I could just rip them up,’ I said. Actions speak louder than words, except for the next word: Sorry.

I went off sick soon after that. When I struggled back it was Cormac who stood up in form period and said, ‘Sir, you should not be here. Go home.’ He was right. I am ever grateful for the solidarity he showed that day.

WT

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections

19 November: Saint Hilda

saint-hilda-whitbyx

Hilda was another of those formidable princesses who influenced the growth of the Celtic and Saxon Church in Britain. Indeed, she lived at the meeting point between the two traditions – Roman and Celtic – in Whitby, Yorkshire, then in the Kingdom of  Northumbria.

A teenage convert, she lived her faith to the full, eventually becoming Abbess of Whitby, a double monastery where women and men lived in their own communities, side by side, coming together for daily worship and no doubt for study; Whitby was reknown for learning, though the Viking raids would put paid to that.

whitby-cloudy-evening

Being high on the cliff-top was not sufficient defence; books and plate were stolen, the monastery destroyed. What we see now is the ruined Norman Abbey, destroyed at the Reformation.

But before all that, it was at Whitby that King Oswy held a Church Synod in 664, attended by delegates from across England, where it was decided to celebrate Easter on the same day as the Church in Rome, a conscious effort to maintain church unity.

Hilda also encouraged the first English hymn writer, Caedmon, who was a groom in the Abbey stables, and was heard singing his songs in the stables.

This carving of Hilda stands above the town, on the high cross just visible to the right of the hilltop. The five bishops around her are the five bishops the monastery provided for the early Church in Northumbria. The snakes at her feet? Well, they do say that Hilda sorted out a plague of snakes around the area, turning them into stone in the shape of ammonite fossils. We found a little ammonite in a rock, and the segment of a bigger one that we carried home from a local beach does a serpentine quality about it!

Dear Lord, in the name of Saint Hilda, we pray for girls throughout the world who would like to study more; may we learn to encourage each other to develop our gifts, as Hilda encouraged the groom and poet, Caedmon. Amen.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections, poetry

1 October: Feast of Saint Thérèse

ther3

Thérèse was born in 1873, before Pius X encouraged Holy Communion for younger children; as a teenager she had to seek permission to receive the sacrament on major feast days. Her sister Marie prepared her each time as she had done for her first communion.

‘I remember once she talked about suffering, telling me that I probably would not walk that path, but if I did, the Good God would always carry me like a child …

‘Soon after my First Communion, I made another retreat for my Confirmation. I prepared with great care to receive the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:14), not understanding why people paid little attention to the reception of this sacrament of Love. Usually there was one day’s retreat before Confirmation but as the Bishop could not come on the date set, I had the consolation of two days of solitude. To give us something to do, our teacher took us to mount Cassin where I gathered handfuls of moon daisies for Corpus Christi. Ah ! how joyful my soul was ! like the apostles I was happy to wait for the coming of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2,1-4) I was overjoyed at the thought of soon becoming a perfect Christian, and especially of having for eternity the mark of the mysterious cross which the bishop would trace on my forehead … I felt the gentle breeze that the prophet Elijah felt on Mount (1Kings 19,11-13)

‘That day I received the strength to suffer, for soon afterward my soul’s martyrdom began… After these lovely, unforgettable feasts, my life went back to normal – that is to say, back to boarding school which was so painful for me. I was forced to live with girls who were very different, dissipated, not wanting to keep to the rule, and it made me quite unhappy.’

Mont Cassin is now the site of two World War II cemeteries, one German, the other Commonwealth. St Desir cemeteries

These men were forced to live and die with others who were very different, and if not dissipated, certainly would have preferred not to be under King’s Regulations.

Reader, pray for them.

Saint Therese, pray for them.

MMB.

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections

15 June, Year of Mercy: Schoolyard Memories

mercy.school (640x465)

mercylogoThe entrance to my primary school was a gateway in a wall built from the flintstones of Reading’s ruined Abbey. Running across the playground could be painful, if you were not careful and collided full tilt with an array of sharp-edged fossil chunks. It had a Dickensian feel, not least because on the far side the grounds abutted on the wall of Reading Gaol, where Oscar Wilde had been confined. Some of the doorways and walls of the Abbey are still standing, so there was a strong sense of being close to the distant past.

My mother, like other mothers, would leave me at the gate to venture into the turbulent uncertainties of other families’ offspring and the sense of multiple undecided destinies. She also took me and my sisters one evening to a special event held in the ruins to the right of the school in this photo. A live, open-air performance of Shakespeare’s Macbeth was given amongst these craggy walls. Special lighting behind each hollow, empty window space captured the shadowy presence of the three witches up above our seats. Fierce, battling Scots rode in on real horses. Fresh breezes tugged at our hair and threatened to prevent us hearing the actors’ words.

So this was a place on the threshold of imaginary, dangerous turmoil. Here also I was commended for spotting the alert voice of the New Testament evangelist, using the words, ‘At that time, Jesus went…’ Yes, Jesus sought mercy amongst the pressures of social upheaval.

CD.

Leave a comment

Filed under Daily Reflections, poetry