Rainbow Chills

God Save the People

Oh, what a week.

Last Friday and Sunday, I had the great pleasure of seeing my brother Bobby absolutely shine in his role as Jesus in his high school's production of Godspell. My brother plays the guitar and sings pretty often at my parents' house. Most times when the whole family is together, my brother pulls out the guitar and we giggle while we sing Extreme's More than Words or all chime in the parts of Stairway to Heaven that we know. Or we sing songs from RENT that my mother doesn't know because she's says it's not her kind of musical.

My brother's recitals in our living room did not prepare me at all for how brilliant he would be in the play. He was the head of the stage crew last year when he was a sophomore. Shortly after the play ended, they staged a musical review in which he and a friend performed Empty Chairs at Empty Tables from Les Mis. That served as his audition for the lead in this year's play. A few days later, one of the music teachers at his school told him that they had purchased the rights to Godspell and that Bobby should start to grow out his hair (pointlessly, since they cut it twice in the weeks prior to the show). Anyway...my brother went into the Godspell auditions fairly confident that he would be cast as Jesus.

I have never seen my brother look so happy in all his 16 years (that's him in the middle, the very tall, skinny one). His face positively beamed on the stage. He sang, danced, smiled, improvised, and made people laugh. He also made his mother and sisters cry like babies. We were blown away by his talent.

It was a wonderful way to start out Holy Week. I have gone through this week with visions of my brother telling parables, singing songs, and eventually, being carried through the auditorium after the crucifixion. It was a powerful reminder of what we commemorate in the Church this week.

I spent last night with my family, at Mass and then visiting other Churches. We are told that after the Last Supper, Jesus went into the garden to pray and asked the apostles to stay awake with him. They did not. Churches have Exposition of the Blessed Sacrament after Mass and people stay in Church to pray. We have done this as a family since I was a very little girl. We get together with friends of my parents, some of whom my dad has known since he was in middle school. They sing incredible traditional music, mostly in Latin, at each Church. It is beautiful and powerful.

Then we go to a diner for one last meal before the Good Friday fast. We laugh, talk, and enjoy being with people who wait all year to sing this kind of music which is so rarely heard these days. Each year there are new-comers to the group. Some people though, have been doing this forever. Me, I hold the babies and pray. There is nothing like praying with a baby in your arms, even a 19 month, over-tired, wriggling one. My back will be breaking after today's Good Friday service. I feel as though I've been passing my niece Abby around endlessly for the past week. It has been so worth it.

I have not had time for knitting and I don't forsee any until next week. The next few days will be filled with family and religious traditions. If you celebrate, I wish you a happy and holy Easter.

Totally unrelated knitting note: Laura had the twins on Tuesday. Aidan and Jenna weighed in at 7 lbs, 14 oz and 7 lbs, 13.8 oz. No, I have not finished the second blanket.

Knit a prayer

I knit up a prayer yesterday, a tiny hat for a baby coming into this world too soon. I knit while I listened to Brenda talk about the Church of Knitting and thought about the prayer that my knitting has become. With each stitch, row, inch, I knit prayers and wishes, hopes and dreams for the one who will wear it.

This morning, I read about the hatred that the only Church I have ever known has shown to me, time and again, this time with renewed vengenence. The Pontifical Council for the Family has reiterated the Church's stance about homosexuality, same-sex marriage, abortion, contraception, IVF and more in a document named Family and Human Procreation. While the document is not yet published online, it reportedly includes:

"God is being eclipsed. Couples made up of homosexuals claim similar rights to those reserved to husband and wife; they even claim the right to adoption. Women who live a lesbian union claim similar rights, demanding laws which give them access to hetero-fertilization or embryo implantation. Moreover, it is claimed that the help of the law to form these unusual couples goes hand in hand with the help to divorce and repudiate."

I don't even know what to say.

I say my Hail Marys while I wash my hands in the bathroom (three times is a good marker for washing my hands for 30 seconds, the recommended time for killing germs that cause colds). I say prayers during the difficult intervals on the exercise equipment at the gym ("I'll just say Hail Marys until the resistance goes down again," I think to myself). I was raised to look to the Blessed Mother, to Jesus, and to the Church for strength and support. Again and again, the Vatican responds with hatred and rejection.

No wonder I spend so much time knitting.

A week

It is a week before Christmas and the signs are all here. I have started to cry when I listen to certain Christmas songs. I am convinced that the gifts I am giving are not enough. I have decided to do Christmas knitting. In short, I have lost my mind.

Yes, you read that right. It is 6 days until Christmas and I have decided to knit three gifts. This is crazy, I know. I stopped at Loop on Friday and picked up materials for a sample to knit for the store and I loved it so much that I have decided to knit this project for two people on my list. Since there are three of this type of people on my list (vague enough for you?), I also need to knit something for person #3. (All of this vagueness is for my sister Cathy. For the rest of you, I have three siblings and am an aunt to three little ones. The knitting is for one of those two groups. Tune in next week to find out which one.)

I am finished the shop sample and I knit about 1/4 of Joshua's birthday gift this weekend. Pictures on that soon although they will be behind links since I want the gift to be a surprise for Cathy.

The gifts I will be knitting should not be stressful as they are fairly large gauge projects. Wish me luck. I am usually not a holiday knitter because I hate the deadlines but I feel inspired to knit these things.

Christmas:

I tend to get very emotional at Christmas. I feel a strong connection to the Christmas story. I picture Mary and Joseph and how scared they must have been. I think about this Baby with all of the hopes and dreams of the world on his tiny shoulders. I think about that one family and how they changed the world. In some ways, I feel that this sounds naive but I am sincere. I think about these people in a real way. I feel the presence of Someone Greater in a way that I don't feel it the rest of the year. And that makes feel weepy. And that's where I am right now and how I know that Christmas is nearly here.

Previous posts about this topic can be found here and here.

Christmas song of the day:

"Bless us all, who gather here
The loving family I hold dear
No place on earth, compares with home
And every path will bring me back from where I roam
Bless us all, that as we live
We always comfort and forgive
We have so much, that we can share
With those in need we see around us everywhere

Let us always love each other
Lead us to the light
Let us hear the voice of reason, singing in the night
Let us run from anger and catch us when we fall
Teach us in our dreams and please, yes please
Bless us one and all

Bless Us All from The Muppet Christmas Carol

Willy Nilly

Let's see...

DC:

My trip was fun. I saw some friends, learned some stuff, and went to Stitch DC, the Capital Hill location. It had a great feel to it. Lots of people hanging out knitting, lots of space to wander, places to sit and yarn to see. Maybe because Craig tends to order tons of colorways in the yarn he carries at Loop, I seem to feel like there isn't enough selection when I go into a yarn store these days. Must stop comparing and just enjoy a store on it's own merits. Like the merits of scoring 1300+ yards of lace weight merino for $8.50. Seriously! It's navy blue and I have no idea what I'm going to make but with the variety of shawl patterns out there, I'm sure I can find something. I did meet the owner of Stitch DC and told her how much I loved the store. If I lived in DC, that would be the store I visited to hang out.

Knitting:

I've finished 62 repeats of the Pi Shawl edging, 34 to go. I am taking this with me on my trip to Hershey tomorrow. I've learned that it is wonderful train knitting. I have a feeling I'll finish the knitting on this over the weekend. I can't wait to block it!

I'm also working on a pair of socks in a purple colorway of Trekking sock yarn using the Retro Rib pattern from Interweave Knits. These will be for Michelle.

Sockapal2za:

Christine from Purls of Hope received her Unst socks from me and she seems to like them. I'm so glad.

I got an email from Illanna who made my socks and she said they just need to be mailed. I can't wait to receive them. Look how great they are! Hand-dyed! Awesome. I have a pair of handspun socks that I knitted from yarn I won from a contest about a year ago but none that are hand-dyed by the knitter! COOL! Illanna signed her name to her email and I could not resist looking at the list of people who had finished their socks. Lo and behold there was only one Illanna and she finished them months ago, just as she said in her email. According to Alison's weekly updates, Illanna was one of the first three people finished! I can't wait to get them!

Hershey:

I'm off to the CATS stitching festival in Hershey, PA tomorrow with my sister Cathy. We're staying at the Hershey Lodge overnight and I plan on gorging myself on chocolate while I'm there. We're even thinking about going to Hershey Park on Friday night as a part of their Katrina benefit. $15 to get in and all 10 roller coasters will be open! I am terrible about cross stitching as I don't seem to have the patience and attention to detail that it requires. I may pick up one or two little projects though and give it a go.

Not so happy, happy:

Big scandal in Philly right now as the report has just been released about the three year investigation into the Archdiocese about abuse by priests. The paper has a list of priests and their assignments. You can search by parish/school/office to see if there was a priest there who was an abuser. I was relieved to not see the names of anyone I know on the list. We know many, many priests and I was very afraid I would know someone on the list. I was glad that my home parish and my high school were not on the list. The parish I belong to now did have a priest on the list but he was there in the 1960s.

One of the most disturbing things about this whole situation is that the Church does not seem to be taking responsibility for it's role in the cover up. Cardinal Krol and Cardinal Bevilacqua are both accused of covering up the abuse. Cardinal Rigali is making excuses for them saying that they thought they were doing the right thing but that it would be handled very differently today. Thank God this is all coming to light and people are not being forced to suffer in silence anymore. It is disgraceful that these men were moved to new assignments with no warning to the new parishoners that they were in danger.

The Church does not seem to understand pedophilia, sadly. New regulations are coming out of the Vatican that are going to bar gay men from the Seminary. Men who are trying to live their lives according to what the Church has told them "you are not wrong or bad but your feelings and actions are"...these men are trying to follow the Church's teachings by taking a vow of celibacy. They are going to be denied that option. Why does the Church not recognize that sexual abuse is not about sex or sexuality? It is about power and control. And that more abusers are heterosexual than are homosexual. The abuse of young boys was because Priests had access to boys, not because the Priests were gay. It's not about that.

Many of you may know that I considered a vocation to the convent for many years. Ultimately, I decided that I could not be a representative of an organization/body that had such a policy on homosexuality. There are things the Church teaches that many Sisters do not agree with but they do good work and are able to reconcile their differences. I would have been able to do that with many of the Church's teachings but I decided that I would not be the face of bigotry towards gay people, not as a lesbian, vow of chastity or not.

I am so disenchanted with the Church. I don't even know what to say about it but I had to say something.

The land of crazy

There were many strange sights and occurances last night but here are a few:

• A man wearing caution tape as a belt. I kid you not.
• A childhood friend asking me "Is Angie having a baby?" Uh, yes. (While I don't think I've mentioned it, my youngest sister is a having a baby in about six weeks.) It's obvious when you see her. Yes, we too were initially surprised but asking if she's pregnant when she clearly is close to popping is not the tactful way to say "oh my God, your sister got knocked up!"
• Every priest I've ever met (save the favorite family friend who was on retreat) giving me a half-assed hug and offering me his cheek. I know you guys have had a rough time recently about inappropriate touching and I respect the effort, but if you want a kiss, give me one. Don't shove your cheek in my face. These are all good guys, just a little awkward with the affection.
• My brother wearing an earring. Good grief. I about spit my iced tea out. We were sitting at a table in the social hall after Church and he turned to talk to me. Poor kid. Bossy big sister that I am, I exclaimed, "OH, MY GOD, when did you get your ear pierced?!" Weird. Must get scoop from my mother about that one.
• About a dozen people asking me "What are you doing with yourself these days?" Really? Do you care? I don't think people care. Do you really want to know what I do? Do you want to hear that I'm busier at work than I expected to be this summer and that I'm doing lots of knitting? Really? I don't think people want to know. I think they like to hear themselves talk.

It was a crazy night. I certainly predicted the night when I said I'd be the one with the two sweaty kids. Poor babies. We sat with some church friends, thankfully and one of the women took a tissue out of her purse and wiped Joshua's face off every ten minutes or so. They were really well behaved especially in light of the temperature and the fact that they had been in church for 2.5 hours when all was said and done. Everyone around us was smitten with them.

When the elderly woman behind me told me at the end of mass that I had beautiful children, I didn't have it in me to explain that they weren't mine and that if I was their mother, I would hope that:

1. I would be more adept at feeding Evie Cheerios without getting them all over two pews.
2. I would have found a way for her to not eat my booklet.
3. I would probably not have let Joshua stand on the pew so he could look up into the choir loft and see his "Gwammom, Mommy, Pop Pop, Tita Angie, and Uncle Bobby."

I merely said thank you and sat down, hoping that I didn't have sweat stains on the back of my skirt.

Counting Blue Cars

"Tell me all your thoughts on God
'Cause I'd really like to meet her
And ask her why we're who we are
Tell me all your thoughts on God
'Cause I'm on my way to see her
So tell me, am I very far...
Am I very far now?"
Dishwalla, Counting Blue Cars

Every summer, the Church where I grew up has a Novena to St. Anne. That's 9 days of prayer. Today, the Feast of St. Anne, is the closing of the Novena. There will be more priests there than I can count. Priests I have known my entire life. And people...oh, the people.

The Novena has been happening at St. Anne for decades. The Church is over 150 years old. Back in the 80s, attendance at the Novena was at an all time low. People were going on vacation, not going to church in mid-July. A young man from the parish named Jim was considering a vocation to the priesthood. He prayed to St. Anne for a sign. He asked for an increase in devotions to St. Anne and said he'd look for a sign at the Novena. Attendance at the Novena was booming that year has been steadily rising since and Jim is now Fr. Jim. I don't know if one has anything to do with the other but I do know that the Church will be packed tonight.

I'll be the one wrangling the two sweaty children. Cathy is in town to sing in the choir. Cathy's best friend is the choir director and Cathy comes to lend her voice to these special parish occasions. Since every other member of the Santos family will also be singing with the choir, I'll be on baby duty, praying to St. Anne for a breeze in our beautiful, but non-air-conditioned church.

On the way to work this morning, I was thinking about this blog post and remembered the Dishwalla song. There's a line in the song about counting blue cars. When I was a kid, my sister and I would often spend the week with my grandparents down the shore while my parents went home to work and returned the next weekend to pick us up. We'd sit on the porch with sewing cards and puzzle books waiting for them to get there. Eventually, we'd resort to counting cars. In high school, when we'd stand on the el platform in December, freezing in our school jumpers, we'd count red cars on the highway. I always think of my grandparents when I count cars. Anyway, I was thinking about the song this morning, of using it for the post title, and remembering my grandparents. I looked up and the woman in front of me had a pro-life rose sticker on the handles of her purse.

My Pop wore a pro-life red rose sticker on his suit jacket lapel, always. I smiled this morning when I saw one of these.

Edited to delete photos which looked nutty and to delete the duplicate post.

JP II

I lived just shy of five months of my life before JP II became the Pope. I don't know a world without "John Paul, our Pope."

There are many things that JP II as said that make me sad, many things that have angered me, many things that have led to my harboring ill will towards the Vatican.

I just can't believe that he is going to die. It seems eerie.

The next few weeks will be historic for the Church. At this time of progress, of change, of tolerance and diversity, of safe sex and contraception, this mysterious and holy Church will gain a new leader. And lose a man that has been the face of the Roman Catholic Church (second maybe to Mother Theresa for a while there) to the world.

Earlier this week, when I heard that Jerry Falwell was ill, I was surprised at my reaction. A meanness arose in me that I didn't realize was there. I don't wish harm on people but I realized that somewhere deep within, there was a wish that I lived in a world without Jerry Falwell.

I do not feel that way about the Pope. I can't bring myself to wish harm on him. I wish him peace in his final hours, safe in the arms of the One to whom he has pledged his life.

March books and Church music

I read the following books in March:

Sickened: The True Story of a Lost Childhood by Julie Gregory

Breaking Her Fall by Stephen Goodwin

Confessions of Max Tivoli by Andrew Sean Greer

Double Stitch by John Rolfe Gardiner

Shadow Baby by Alison McGhee

I am currently reading:

Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Suzanna Clark (good but slow)

Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde (I'm afraid I'm over these books)

March by Geraldine Brooks (wonderful)

I need to read Charming Billy by Alice McDermott by Sunday since that is when my book club is discussing it.

Total books read in 2005: 18.

My goal is to read more books than I read in 2004 (about 35) so I am half-way there in a quarter of the allotted time. Seems like I am going to make my goal easily which is gratifying since I am not meeting knitting goals.

I didn't knit at all last night and don't anticipate any knitting time tonight. I'm going to a liturgical music concert with my parents. For all you Catholics out there, I'm going to see David Haas who has written many of my favorite modern liturgical songs including Blest Are They, We are Called, No Longer Strangers, and You Are Mine.

Despite my appreciation for the music of David Haas and Marty Haugen, I find this funny. I love the thumbs up sign that accompanies the words "Gregorian Chant."

I appreciate traditional Catholic liturgical music more than most people my age but the hard line that these folks draw really makes me laugh. I think there is room for both traditional music and the music of modern composers like Haugen and Haas.

Random topic for a blog that is primarily about knitting? Why, yes it is.

Christmas Mass

This is my Church, well, the Church where I was raised, made all my Sacraments, saw my sister and brother-in-law get married. It has been called the most beautiful Church in Philadelphia and I would agree.

Christmas Eve Mass is always an adventure- filled with people who only go to Mass once a year. There are always teenagers giggling inappropriately and small children yelling.

The Church is lovely as you can see and so many people went to great lengths to make sure the Mass was wonderful: hours of choir rehearsals, third and fourth graders preparing carols, first graders practicing their depiction of the Gospel story, fifth graders practicing the readings. In the end, no one can hear the readers, the fifth grade girls are all dressed like Paris Hilton in training, and the first graders are so small that anyone more than five pews back can's see them. The pre-Mass Caroling seems to be the only thing that ever goes as planned.

The well-meaning choir director had a soloist sing a song at the Communion meditation. Me-- well, I was listening to the kid behind me blowing raspberries the entire time. The Children's Mass is no time for a serious soloist. Poor guy.

Overheard at Mass:

My video camera isn't showing in color! I don't know what's wrong with this thing. This is a $1000 camera. Well...I didn't pay $1000 for it. I got it for $300 hot.

Way to go, lady. You just announced IN CHURCH that you knowingly bought a stolen camera.

This is just the kind of thing that happens. I'm from a working class neighborhood where people go to Church because they went when they were kids. There are some families, like ours, where the whole family life is organized around the Church. It's an odd feeling.

As usual, we were the last people the leave Church. My mom talked to everyone, greeted old friends, kissed kids she used to babysit or substitute teach. I saw former classmates with their children and wondered how that had happened, how so much time had gone by.

As we stood there talking, I looked up at the altar and saw my dad praying. Standing in front of the manger. And I was reminded what it was all about.

The spirit of Christmas

When it comes to Christmas, traditions are incredibly important to me. I also tend to feel quite spiritual at this time and often spend time thinking about that magical night so many years ago when a young girl gave birth to a Child who changed the world.

I am much like a child in my anticipation of the holiday. I have a hard time concentrating and keep thinking about the magical feeling that will be here in a few short days.

When I was in high school and college my Christmas Eve went something like this:

We'd spend the morning listening to Christmas music and helping my mom keep things in order in the house. We'd take turns in the bathtub (we have no shower in that house) and by 3:30 would be ready to leave for 5:00 Mass. The Children's Mass is a spectacle- my favorite Mass of the year. It is crowded, loud, and the anticipation of Santa is in the air. One (or some years both) of my sisters has been the cantor at this mass since 1994- that is ten years of Santos girls singing from the altar.

After the Mass, my sister and I would run across the street with other kids our age and young adults to pile into SUVs and Uhauls filled with toys, each team with one Santa, to deliver toys to Parish families who could not afford Christmas that year. Some of these experiences were amazing. There were houses I visited several years in a row, with no lights on, or no heat. The small children were incredibly excited. The older children often looked on from the kitchen or the stairway, glad to see that there were gift certificates for clothing stores handed to mom, cd players, hockey sticks, makeup cases. The gratitude was often incredible. The shame was often overshadowed by the glee of the child who got just what he wanted.

When I'd walk into my own house afterwards, warm, smelling of pepperoni pizza and Christmas candles, I'd pause and say a silent prayer of thanksgiving for everything that I had. For the warmth, the dinner, the family, the traditions, the feeling of safety. Every year before Mass begins, I look back on the years that I spent in cars, driving from one house to another, playing an elf. That experience reminds me of the family who had nothing, not even a place to deliver the Baby that would change the world. The One whose message would be treasured  by billions over thousands of years.