My Budding Catholic Apologist Daugther

Rebecca is finishing her freshman year in high school.  One of her closest friends is a Jehovah's Witness.  I really like this child.  She wears a skirt to school every day as well as a snood (not sure it has anything to do with being a witness, but her modest look is much appreciated in contrast to low-rise jeans and high rise midriffs, etc). She has also being going at  it quite a bit with Rebecca about the veracity of our faith.  Rebecca is not quite ready to stand on her own (who doesn't need a bit of help on occasion when it comes to defending the faith?) so she'll bring an argument home to me and ask me to help her with a good response.  I finally decided to just give her my copy of Patrick Madrid book "Answer Me This!" and she is most happy to report that she has left her little friend speechless, a first.

As much as I do not like that someone of another faith is trying to lure my daughter from the One True Church, I can think of worse things and I like the way their debates are helping Rebecca understand her own religion better.  At least they are not discussing boys or Lady Gaga.  (BTW, the Phillies Phanatic mocked Gaga as well as anyone could last night - the announcer at first thought he was dressed as a "floozy" until his counterpart corrected him.  Sorry, had to mention that!)

Rebecca has been invited to visit a Kingdom's Hall with her friend and I told her I might permit it if her friend will first come to a Catholic Mass with us.  Her friend told her she couldn't do such a thing because she is a Witness and Rebecca told her she would not visit the Hall for the very same reason - that she is a Catholic.

Our home is full of Catholic symbols and devotions and her little friend is welcome here any time.  One of these children may wind up getting converted, and I'm happy it won't be my Rebecca!

Beggars Can't Always Be Choosy!

I know we don't have to go to daily Mass.  I also know that it's usually a greater sacrifice for me to perform whatever duty calls me away from daily Mass than to make the effort to get there.  Just as nearly every Saturday may be dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary, so it is with Friday and devotion to the Sacred Heart.   While I know that only the first Friday is particularly dedicated to the Sacred Heart, I try my best to do something in reparation and if possible, to recite the Litany.  It had been a long time since I missed Mass on a Friday.  Unfortunately, it happened today.

I got a call last night right as I was going to bed that a catastrophe occurred which compromised the sterility of our instruments and supplies.  I had already taken an allergy pill and did not want to drive in to work, plus I knew the nursing supervisor and others were on the premises and could do as I directed them. My phone did not stop ringing until sometime after 2 am and bleary-eyed, I dragged myself in at 6am to see what else needed to be done. I can't complain because the evening folks didn't make it home until 4 am.  I was scheduled to visit my friend at her Catholic hospital, but that was looking more and more precarious.

At any rate, after running around for 4 1/2  hours, dealing with childish surgeons and staff and noting that my supposed right-hand nurse was enjoying watching me sweat, I decided things were under enough control that I could leave for a few hours.  We decided that this would be a working visit and my friend planned things so that we could review policies in her OR that are plaguing me in mine.  I interviewed some of her staff in the endo lab, which is an area where we are having particular challenges, and brought back some good information to guide us in our facility.

I absolutely loved the hospital I visited though it is admittedly twice the distance from my house as my current position.  The hospital is located on a beautiful campus and a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary greets you as you arrive at the entrance.  A modern looking cathedral-type structure is attached to the entrance, and I learned that it is "the chapel".  It's larger than some churches I've been in.  I'm not crazy about the modern statues and the off-center tabernacle, but it's a hospital chapel, not a parish church.  Beggars cannot be choosy!

I have a lot to consider.  On the one hand, it is quite a distance.  On the other, I will be in the same building, all day long, in which the Blessed Sacrament is reserved.  The chapel is open 24 hours a day, which means that whenever I have the time and the desire, I can pop in for a quick prayer or an hour of devotion at the end of the day before I leave.  It will be less money, but that's never an issue.  Less is more, if you know what I mean.  The time off works differently too, but it won't be a problem.  I will make a list of pros and cons and weigh them carefully for awhile.

When my friend took me into the chapel, I thought that even though I didn't make it to Friday Mass for the first time in a long time, I did get to greet Jesus in person, if only for a moment.  Aside from the visit, this was an extremely difficult day and one on which I found it so difficult to pray.

As I drove in to work this morning at an hour when I would normally be on my way to Mass, I wondered to myself why it appears as though God makes things so difficult.  I have only to think of St. Joseph in search of a place for his wife to bring forth her Child to recall that His plan for us seems not to include clear-cut directions  complete with arrows.  

Some days are going to be better than others.  Only in Heaven should I expect perfection, cos I surely have no right to expect it here on earth.

(I tried my best to edit this, but I am the midst of a sneezing conniption, so please excuse typos, etc!)

Don't Tell Father Z...

... but this morning, I was the quasi-altar server at Mass.  No, not really, but I knew that heading would grab some attention.  Actually, we did not have a server, so Father asked if anyone would be willing to ring the bells at the consecration from the comfort of their pew.  No one else raised their hand, so I did.  Having two kids who are/were servers is handy. My timing was perfect but more than that, I was so touched to be able to herald the Lord's arrival at the Holy Table by sounding the bells.  At first, I wondered how I would acknowledge His Presence as I normally do, but then I realized that by ringing the bells, I didn't need to do any more than I already did.

It always bothers me at low Mass when there is no server and obviously no organist, that there is no peal of bells to call our attention to the Real Presence.  Kudos to this priest who obviously feels the same!

Here We Go Again

The best boss I ever had, who works for a Catholic hospital, is not giving up so easily on getting me to come to work for her.  You may recall back in January she asked me to come work for her at a time when I was struggling with my decision of where to seek employment that would allow me the opportunity to get to daily Mass.  Her hospital offers two Masses a day in their chapel, even more on Sundays.

With all the nonsense I'm dealing with at my current job, I'm ready to give her latest proposition serious consideration.  My family is somewhat opposed to this idea because it involves a longer commute.  However, to me it would be worth it to have the Blessed Sacrament on the same premises in which I'm working and to know that I will never, ever have to deal with abortion or sterilization surgery. I'm fortunate that I don't have to do that now, but if they get desperate enough for more surgical volume, who knows?  Besides, I have to drive at least a few times a week to other hospitals in our health system and if you add those miles up, it might not be that different.  And on top of it all, I would get to work for someone who has integrity in every way.

Please keep this intention in your prayers.  I know there are more important things we can all pray for, so just a brief mention would be more than I deserve.

Gracias!

I AM Living the Monastic Life -Sort Of

OK, so my house is more furnished than this, but not by much!

I first discovered the house in which we now live when I was pregnant with our oldest.  I befriended a woman in my maternity exercise class who was a few weeks ahead of me.  She invited us to her home for the bris, the Jewish rite of circumcision, and I fell in love with the place - the spacious rooms, hardwood floors and large and expansive garden.  When our friends moved away, we expressed interest in buying the house, but they opted to rent it out, not sure if they were going to like living in Teaneck, NJ.  But about 8 years later, they decided to sell. They called and left a message on our answering machine, asking if Jim would like to paint the house.  We called back and said no, we were more interested in buying it.  The people that rented it from them had beat the house nearly into the ground.  The told our friends they had 4 kids.  They really had 11. Our friends would have rented to them anyway, but they would have insisted on more frequent maintenance.   The husband never wanted to bother the landlord with repairs, so he did all the patching himself.  The house was in sad shape but I remembered what it used to look like, and I knew it could be restored.

I thought we should invest in central air.  My husband, who, you understand, lived atop a laundromat for years without so much as a fan, didn't agree.  He thought window units were just fine.  They would be, if they didn't have to wait for him to install them.  There are two times during the year that I advise everyone to hide the women and children - the day he puts up the Christmas tree and the day he puts in the air conditioners.

Fortunately, he got the bedroom units in last week because it's so hot, the devil asked a cab driver for a ride in his air-conditioned sedan. I'm still waiting for hubby to install the downstairs unit.  It's so hot in this house that I hate getting out of my car when I get home because the car is at least air-conditioned.  I no sooner come in the door and into the convection oven that is our house when the question is popped:  "What's for dinner and what time will it be served?"

It's times like these when  I have to remind myself that the Blessed Virgin Mary never threw a pot at St. Joseph.

Lest you think "well, at least you sleep in an air-conditioned room", consider this.  Mr. Eskimo has discovered a nifty trick.  If he opens our closet door to just the right angle, all the air runs into the closet and is blocked by the door from coming into the bedroom.  It's not a big wonder why I never sleep well at night.  It's much easier to get warmer than it is to get cooler and when I suggest he use the comforter, he looks at me like I have three heads.

Sometimes, as we women are wont to do, I think about what might have been had I entered a monastery, and it occurs to me that my life might not be too much different than what it is now.

Rise at an early hour?  Check
Daily Mass?  Check (well, nearly always check)
Simple meals? Check
Modest and simple clothing? Check
Lack of heat in winter?  Check
Lack of air conditioning in summer?  Check
Sparsely furnished dwelling?  Check

All I need is a habit and I'm nearly all set (with a few minor complications, like the husband and kids and job!)

Another Carmelite Monastery!

I was tickled pink to discover that there is another Carmelite Monastery withing driving distance of Philadelphia. The Allentown Carmel is actually located in Coopersburg, PA, just a few miles from A-town. I thought you might enjoy taking a look at their site and reading about the Foundress.  I like what she had to say about daily reception of Holy Communion.

God Is Where It's At

I am so going to miss the priest who opened his homily this morning with this line.  June is a mighty month, for with it go many fine parish priests, to other parishes, so that others may come to know them.  Father used this line to qualify Christ's prayer to the Father to "glorify Thy Son".  To human ears, this may sound like an egotistical plea, until we stop to think that God does not have an ego.  That is an entirely human flaw.  Our ego gets in the way when we attempt to usurp God's authority or assume we are on the same level with Him.  The Holy Trinity is the Be All, End All of our existence, except It has no end.  So much to think about, yet   impossible for the mind to comprehend.  Well, I tell myself this all the time: I don't need to comprehend it.  I'm not God, so I will never comprehend any of it.  It's a waste of time to try.

There was a shameful time in my life when I feel like I tried to arm-wrestle God.  I questioned my very existence.  I resented the fact that I had no say in coming into the world, was told I had free will, but yet would go to Hell if I exercised that will to do what I wanted, rather than what God asked of me.  This is a classic example of our ego obstructing the path to holiness.  Once I accepted that I am subject to God, I dropped this existential way of thinking.  Once again, I assigned human failings to a Divine Person, Whose ways are not mine.  Rather, I should say, my ways are not His.  I must strive to make His ways mine.

The World Wants To Take Us All To Hell

In a Mary Gordon novel I read some years ago, the protagonist said she was going to write a book called "Sex Can Make You Stupid."  I really do wonder if there is any more destructive drive in our world today than the fascination with sex of just about every variety - pre-marital, extra-marital, same-sex relations - you name it.   Nearly all of the most deadly sins plaguing our society can all be traced back to sex as it was never intended to be by God.

If I did what Rep. Anthony Weiner did, I would probably crawl in a hole and stay there for a few years. We're not talking about someone who fell in love with another woman after he married his wife. That would be bad enough.  We're talking about pure, unadulterated sleaze.

Oh, I know.  The media gives it a sophisticated name - hedonism.  Fancy word or not, it can still land someone in Hell.

Last week I tuned into a local sports talk-radio station on my way home from work (see, had I prayed another set of mysteries from the Rosary or an extra chaplet, I would have been spared this).  The host was interviewing a young woman and I listened for about 30 seconds to see why a female was a guest on a show that deals with male-only sports like pro baseball and pro football.  So the host says to her: "So let's see, you basically had sex with any man who took you up on your invitation" and she says "that's right".  I couldn't turn the radio off fast enough.  What kind of society is this when a well-known radio host is falling over himself in adulation of a adulteress, one probably less than half his age?  Why does no one see the tragedy in a young woman giving her body away in that manner?

I have struggled with temptation nearly all my life. At one time or another, many of us have.  It sneaks up on me in the most seemingly harmless ways.  But the more I partake of the sacraments, the more strength I obtain to overcome these temptations.  If you don't feed your body the right things, your immune system cannot withstand every attack.  The soul works the same way.  If we do not put the right things in - frequent prayer, confession and Holy Communion, we leave ourselves vulnerable to the smut and disease of the world.

Terry Nelson has a wonderful post on the way the secular (and sometimes the religious world) tries to sell homosexuality as something normal.  Go read it and spike his stats (not that they need spiking!)

The Doors

I went for a walk with my daughter specifically to photograph these doors at a nearby Anglo-catholic church. If you can zoom in, you might be able to see that  it's a depiction of the Crucifixion with Mary, the Mother of Jesus and St. John the Evangelist.  Anytime I feel some longing to go inside this church, I remind myself that as beautiful as it is, it lacks the Real Presence.   No amount of ornate artwork could ever compensate for the beauty of a God that humbles Himself to sit waiting for us in the tabernacle.

Joan of Arc Wouldn't Stand a Chance

The usual suspects have me thinking that had they lived in her time, they would have cheered as St. Joan of Arc was tied to the stake.

How Do You Show Your Catholic Identity?

As you know, I don't like labels, although I did see one that might describe me - moderate trad.  Nah, I'm not even sure that would describe be.  I'm definitely not a neo-con.  I do prefer the traditional form of worship, but I have no problem with the Ordinary Form celebrated as it should be, without ad-libbing, prancing girls, rainbow banners and home-baked bread.  In fact, I try to attend both forms of the Mass at my parish, with the Vigil Mass on Saturday evening and the TLM on Sundays.

Anyway, while I detest labels, I do think it's important that something about us tell others that we are Catholic and preferably, we do this in such a way that it invites non-Catholics as well as our fallen-away brethren to wonder what it is we've been up to that has us so joyful.  So, share with us.  What is about you, what you do, how you live your life each day that tells people you are Catholic?  How do you bear witness to the Gospel in your daily life?

Also, what is your daily routine so far as prayer is concerned?  How much time do you spend each day in prayer?  What do you like to pray?  How often do you go to Mass?  If you participate in parish life outside of Mass, what organizations do you belong to and how much time are you asked to devote to them each week? Are there any activities outside your parish that you participate in which give witness to your Christian identity?

So that this little exercise does not embarrass and/or distinguish anyone,  feel free to comment anonymously.  While we're at it,  here are two more questions - what do you do with your hands during the Our Father and what do you do during the exchange of peace?  

Maybe we can get a lively discussion going here and if we do, I'll tell you about the time someone tried to grab my hand during the Our Father.

Sacred Heart Novena at Visitation Monastery

The Visitation Nuns at 5830 City Ave. (Between 59th St.And Cardinal Ave. cordially invite you to their annual Sacred Heart Novena of Masses at 7:30 p.m. from Thursday, June 23rd through July 1, 2011, the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart.  Rev. William P. O’Brien, SJ will conduct the novena.  Since it was a Visitation Nun, Sr.Margaret Mary Alacoque, who received the Great Revelations of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Visitation Nuns throughout the world honor the Heart of Christ in a special manner, particularly by an annual public novena.

For more information on the Visitation Order of nuns, visit their website.http://www.visitationuns.org/

Eighteen Seconds

Consider this a public service announcement containing a lesson learned by a family in a most painful way.  A little three-year-old child drowned on Monday in a pool at a private swim club.  She was in the shallow end with her parents and somehow, wandered off, following some older girls into the deeper end of the pool.  She was discovered floating and despite heroic efforts, nothing could be done to save her.

The child's distraught and grief-stricken mother was able to hear something that one of the doctors told her and the family hopes that what she learned can help other families avoid the same tragedy.  The doctor said that it takes just 18 seconds for a child her size to drown.

Never underestimate the danger of water for children and adults of any age, but particularly one that young.  As the child's uncle said in a public service announcement that he created for the family, you might think you have the time, but you don't.  The price for running to the bathroom or answering a cell phone call while at the pool or the beach is just to high to chance it.

May the child's family draw strength from the knowledge that their little angel is now in the eternal safekeeping of Jesus Christ, Our Lord.

Salve Mater Misericordiae

Meditation From St. Therese For First Saturday of the BVM

The Ascension of Jesus Into Heaven 


"My desires of martyrdom are nothing; they are not what gives me the unlimited confidence that I feel in my heart...Ah!  I really find that it is not this at all that pleases God in my soul;  what pleases Him is that He sees me loving my littleness and my poverty; the blind hope that I have in His mercy.

Oh dear Sister, I beg you, understand your little girl, understand that to love Jesus, to be His victim of love, the weaker one is without desires or virtues, the more suited one is for the workings of this consuming and transforming Love... it is confidence, and nothing but confidence, that must lead us to Love."

- General Correspondence, Vol. II pp 999-1000, Letter to her sister, Sister Marie of the Sacred Heart, Sept. 1986

God Give Me Strength!

I picked that title for this post because my mother used to utter it all the time when my sister and I were driving her nuts.  If my mother had to deal with what I do on a daily basis, she would have thanked the Lord she had it as easy as she did. And I tell her that all the time, too!

Just once, I'd like to report that I had an easy week at work and everything went swimmingly, but such a week does not seem to be in the cards for me.  I have had to deal with a staff member who seems intent on self-destruction, which would be bad enough in and of itself, except her behavior is affecting everyone else.  Some things came to light about her this week that have  me wondering how anyone saw fit to put her in her current position.  I am torn between my desire to move her out of her job and my responsibility to help someone who seems intent on spinning down the drain.  I find myself entirely repulsed by her and yet I have to depend on her to some degree.  I also feel a responsibility, as her boss, to help her out of her death spiral.  The one little voice in my head says: "Just concern yourself with her work performance and leave the rest to her" while the other little voice in my head says: "You may be the only person in her life right now with the ability to set her straight."

I decided to take this to the Lord tonight so I went to the little chapel that has First Friday Evening Adoration.  I asked Jesus to help me see her as He does, and not as a wretched thing that I want to avoid at all costs.  For now, that was all I could do.

On my way home, I decided to take the more populated route on Broad Street, just slightly out of my way.  I heard a voice call out to me: "Can I please get a hug?"

Coming toward me was a scrub tech from my previous job who about wore me out with her issues.  I can tell you that it is not an easy thing to dispense tough love to someone who is crying out for help but who is failing to carry out their work responsibilities and negatively impacting everyone else.  At times, I felt like a bully who was beating up on a weaker person. I was never mean, but I had to be firm and this meant a lengthy suspension without pay while the person sought treatment for their problem.  When she returned to work, she broke down in my office and cried.  When she stopped sobbing, she thanked me for being the only person in her life to have heard her cries for help.  She was very sad to see me go.  I know it was very difficult for her when I left my job because she had to go back to a manager who had more less enabled her behavior.

Here she was tonight, coming toward me with her arms wide open, real joy on her face to see me.  She looked like she has been clean and sober and holding fast to her program.  She introduced me to her young son and told me things were going very well for her.

For this, I thank St. Therese for her glorious intercession.  I know I have to ask the same for the person who is making life miserable for me and a lot of other people at work now.  I know this is what Christ meant when He asked what good it was to only love those who love us.   I know that sometimes, Jesus uses as as an instrument to help bring a wayward sheep home.  I know I need to be more like Him and not mind getting close to the unpleasantness of a sheep that's gotten itself dirty. I know the strength to do this can only come from Him.

"All I do is be weak and little and Jesus does the rest" - St. Therese

Some time ago, I had a dream about her that I never forgot.  I was on my way up a stairwell and at the top of the stairwell was a man's hand, extended toward me.  The steps were steep and I was having trouble navigating the steps. Behind me was St. Therese,  French accent and all, urging me to give Him my hand so He could help me up. "You can't make it yourself" she whispered urgently, "give Him your hand and let Him help you up."

He has helped me up.  Now I owe it to Him to help others.  If they won't acknowledge Him at first, they will eventually, if I carry out His will as I should.

UPDATE


Mr. Little Way is going to be around for awhile longer.  The arthritis medication he's been on has taken a toll on his kidneys.  He has to be off all pain meds and anti-inflammatories for 6 weeks at which point labs and ultrasound will be repeated.  This was not at all the impression we got when the doctor called asking to see him, but that's ok.  She's hopeful the damage has been limited and won't have any long-term implications.  Thank you all for your prayers!

When You Least Expect It...

... the Good Lord sends you a gift and sometimes, you're in such shock to be the recipient of such grace, you are left speechless.  It was like that this morning.

Mass was in the upper church.  I got there shortly before Mass began, tucked the comb of my little chapel veil into my hair and knelt down in my pew.  I felt a gentle tug on the hem of my jacket and expected to see one of the regulars behind me.  The Lord had other ideas.  It was my cousin, whose conversion I have been praying for, sometimes more faithfully than others. Casper the friendly ghost may as well have been standing there for the look of disbelief on my face.   At first I thought maybe he had seen me come in the door and followed me in, but when I beckoned him to stay for Mass he said he already was sitting in the back.

For awhile now,  I've had difficulty spending time in his company because the conversation is always about him and some meaningless worldly pleasure.  A few Christmases ago, I tried to tell him of my own reversion and how I wished he'd give going to Mass a try again.  He was polite but nothing more was said.  In all honesty, I did my best to avoid having to talk to him because the conversation always centered around him.  I didn't want it to be about me.  I wanted it to be about Him.  I guess my behavior wasn't exactly charitable as I was always looking for some excuse to avoid getting together with him.

 I could barely contain my shock at seeing him this morning.  What's more, he was one of the ushers who took up the collection and he seemed to know his way in and out of the sacristy, which tells me he's been at this for awhile now, except I didn't know it.

There's another bit of irony with this revelation.  At Holy Communion, I always pray for the conversion of those among my family and friends.  I was thinking that I've been saying this a little too mechanically lately and then I stopped to reflect on whether any of my family or friends had actually converted.  Upon concluding that they had not, I determined that I should continue to pray this prayer nonetheless.  No matter how badly I pray it, I know He hears me!

On my way home last night, I saw a marquis outside a Lutheran church that read: "Jesus prayed all the time.  You should follow His example."

I sure should.

Ascension Thursday

Ascension of Christ by Rembrandt

In case anyone is so inclined, Mass in the Extraordinary Form tonight at St. Paul's at 7pm.  Free parking right across from the church in the schoolyard directly opposite the church.

Never Any Shortage of People to Pray For

I used to practically break my neck to get to Mass each morning in enough time to pray the Rosary or a chaplet before 6:30am.  I decided that it might be better to get there shortly before Mass begins and stay afterward for a  while to pray.  For a few minutes after Mass ends it's a little noisy but nothing terrible.  Today, there were a lot of side conversations but it was hard to get mad at anyone. In fact, I'm kind of glad they were talking loudly enough for me to hear because some folks really need our prayers.

My little friend, who has been battling cancer since I first met him four years ago, has been absent from his pew for the last three weeks.  A friend of his stopped to tell us this morning that he's in a nursing home and unable to care for himself any longer. I'm hoping to get over to see him this weekend. I'm a little afraid because I don't know what I'm going to find, but whatever it is, I'll survive.

Another lady, who keeps perfect silence and always stays after Mass to keep Our Lord company as most of us rush off to work, was just diagnosed with breast cancer.  The sisters stopped to talk to her this morning and I learned that one of them has also recently been treated for breast cancer.  She gave the woman an excellent pep talk and it was most reassuring to listen to her.

The gentleman who has filled the role of altar server the last two years informed us he is getting ordained to the permanent diaconate on Saturday.  All along, I guessed he was a member of a third order, and to some extent, I was correct.  He asked for prayers and prayers he shall get!

Finally, the couple who is faithfully at Mass by 6am each morning will be gone for a little while.  I noticed lately he's been walking with a cane and tomorrow, he's having bilateral knee replacements.  One of the sisters hurried over to me after Mass because she didn't know I left my old job.  She wanted me to look after him as I had looked after her brother when he had his knees replaced.  The look of disappointment on her face was so adorable I wanted to tell her I would go there tomorrow just to look in on him .  I assured her I'd make a phone call to see to it that he'd get VIP treatment.  But not until I make a plea "upstairs" on all their behalf.

I do not belong to the parish where I most often attend weekday Mass, but I do feel part of the little family that gathers as faithfully as it can in the wee hours to start the day off in the presence of the Lord.  Most of the folks are older and I know that one day, I won't see some of them any more.  Their journey home will be complete and it will have been a privilege to share some of the miles with them.

When I first started coming to this Mass, I would encounter a gentleman who sat in the back.  He was very sickly and clearly, it was a struggle for him to get there each day.  His greeting was always so endearing and I really do miss hearing him say, as he bowed to the altar "Good morning, Dear Lord."  May he rest in peace.

It's CSA Time Again

Full-fat yogurt from Spring Wood Farm in Gap, PA.

Last year, on a bit of a whim, I decided to join a CSA.  For the uninitiated, CSA stands for community supported agriculture and it gives city folks like me a chance to support a local farmer and at the same time, get some great organic produce at its freshest.  Towards the end of last year, I discovered that Bud, my farmer, carries yogurt that is truly to-die-for.  He gets it from SpringWood Farm in Gap, PA, a certified organic dairy farm run by a Mennonite couple and their eleven children.  The yogurt is full-fat (so I might really die eating it) and if this was a better photo, you'd be able to see the cream top that comes with every quart of their yogurt.  I like to add some maple syrup to it and by the time I get down to the bottom of the bowl, it's like eating a decadent whipped cream.  It really is that good.

Although Bud doesn't grow fruit, he can get it sometimes from other local farmers who do.  As a special treat in this week's pick up, there was this pint of strawberries.  My husband is planning to add some to the yogurt tomorrow morning.

Every Saturday evening, via email, I get a newsletter from Bud about what I can expect in my pick-up this week. It helps with grocery and meal planning to know ahead of time what I'm getting.  I also enjoy the little snippets Bud provides of life on the farm.  Since we can't grow our own vegetables, this is the next best thing. I like the fact that I'm helping a Christian, hard-working farmer support his family and giving my own family delicious, healthy vegetables in return.