Gratuitous Pix of Our Grandson

And a poem...

What are heavy?

Sea, Sand, and Sorrow;

What are brief?

Today and tomorrow;

What are frail?

Spring blossoms and youth;

What are deep?

The ocean and truth.

* Poem by Christina Rosetti

"Mommom" (that's me) and "Dandad" (Dan, of course) and all the aunts and uncle are enjoying every minute we can with Grandbaby, Gavin!  He was here with his Momma (beautiful Nicole) in Colorado for about a month right around Easter and then I got to go back and visit with the  two of them a little more in California last week, while helping with the drive back home.  

Taken before Paul deployed.

And, not like it's anything new to us around here of course, but it is always amazing and wonderful witnessing the blooming of a new little personality. Just between the time he first came to visit and when I had to leave and come home to Colorado, Gavin grew and changed so much!  He learned all about the best ways to make his young Uncles (Uncle Gabe, and Uncle Bill*) laugh, and how to get anything he wanted out of his aunts; he found out about Easter eggs, and sticking suction cup Nerf bullets on glass doors...  And he learned how  to say "Hiyee, Daddy!"  When Paul skyped from Afghanistan last week, Gavin spoke up and greeted his Daddy right on cue. Wish I'd been there to see Paul's face! Life is sweet.  Babyhood is the sweetest. And, oh, so short.  

 Praying Paul's deployment is cut short, so he can come home and enjoy his little family as soon as possible!

* William does not really like being called "Uncle Bill" -- but has conceded that it will be easier for Gavin to learn how to say "Uncle Bill" than "Uncle William."  So it has been permitted.  Still -- make no mistake about it -- only Gavin is allowed to call him by the shortened version of his moniker.  The rest of the world must call the youngest Davis --William, and nothing but William.  Not Bill.  Not Billy.  Not Will.  Not Willy.  William. 

 Uncle Bill has spoken.

  

(Heehee!  Just kidding, Yuyum!)

Big Sisters

(Cathy, 11; Anna, 9)

Not always crab grass in the lawn of life.

From the FB Forwards Folder

Love Stories

I love a good love story.

But, I don't enjoy it if it has:  premarital shenanigans, adultery, divorce, same-sex marriage, broken families, murder, bad language, a key character dying in the end, or vampires.

Which means I love a good number of movies made before 1965, and about, maybe... uh, nine (?) made in the last fifty years.  Even old reliable Hallmark movies have lost their innocence. But there are still a few good wholesome movies out there. Probably the most truly realistic and lovely one in recent years is the story (as mentioned above) in Up, but then there's: Tangled (I just love that movie!);  Ever After; Ella Enchanted; the Love Comes Softly series; Emma; Sense and Sensibility; Princess Bride;  Somewhere in Time... and I'm sure there are a few more, but those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head -- that I can recommend without caveats.

Isn't that pitiful?

I don't know if the movies pattern themselves after society, or society patterns itself after the movies.  It's probably a little of both, I guess.  But, regardless -- I find it disturbing the pictures that we're seeing out there in either one.  Viewed from someone a hundred years ago, our movies and television paint a canvas, really quite dark, morbid, technologically obsessed and -- well -- amoral, at best... But, what I think our great grandparents might also find arresting is the terrible low to which our personal relationships have sunk.  What our society expects from life and love in 2012 is disturbing. And the culture-media/ media-culture blender is whirling us down to no good end.

Seriously.  It's pitiful.

I don't want my children to pattern their love lives after most of what passes for romance in movies and television today.  I don't want them to think it's love -- real love -- only if there's d-r-a-m-a.  Or explosions and fireworks and hoop-de-doo.  Or sleeping together.  Or vampires.  I want them to know that their courtship and marriages won't necessarily be smooth and perfect all the time -- which actually is a theme in almost every romantic story, from Twilight to Tangled (because there's no story without conflict, after all), but that they don't have to be sordid, either.  Or maudlin.  I want my children to watch Ever After and see that a life together should be founded on mutual respect; I want them to watch Sense and Sensibility and realize how important it is for them to use their heads, not their hormones when they choose a mate;  I want them to watch Princess Bride and Somewhere in Time and understand that the love of their lives must be eternal, because marriage is for a lifetime -- and then some.

Because the fact is that eternal love exists even without a vampire lover doomed to an eternity of angst.  The best examples of the real thing are not written for the big screen. And they are better than in the movies.

Simple Woman Monday

FOR TODAY

Outside my window... it's a little overcast, but warm. It was 80 degrees here yesterday and is supposed to be in the 80s today.   Gabe and William are dressed and outside waiting for me to take them to school.  They're both wearing winter coats.

I am thinking... they're not going to want those coats come recess time later.  And I bet William forgets his at school.

I am thankful... that all my children are safe and sound right now.  Especially spiritually.  I pray with all my heart that this will always be true.

In the kitchen...  there is nothing going on, really.  Dieting puts a serious dent in my cooking ambition.  And I try to dissuade the girls from tempting me with their baking...  But, I'm toying with trying the Mediterranean Diet, as the summer heightens and more fresh, organic vegges are available.  Then, things should get interesting again...

I am wearing... a straight denim skirt, white button-down blouse, and a green cardigan.

I am creating... a nook in my bedroom behind the bathroom door where I can more conveniently primp in the morning.  Our master bathroom is the size of a telephone booth (I'm not kidding...) and the lighting is terrible.  So I'm working on a fix. This is what I've got so far:  two narrow shelves on pretty brackets, already loaded with natural wicker baskets for my makeup and doodads, and a small florescent light.  Now I just need a mirror that will fit below the light and something inspired to make the whole set-up look prettier...  You know what they say about blooming where your planted? Sometimes that requires power tools and paint brushes.  (I'll take a picture when I finish...)

I am going... with my friend, (82 year old) June, to get pedicures on Wednesday.  My toenails are still kelly green with shamrock-y designs on the big Piggies, this theme left over -- you guessed it -- from all the way back in March!  Time for spring toes!

I am wondering... if I can find a color that will gross June out more than the green toenail polish did. (She said my toes looked "gruesome." I called them "Pinch Insurance.")

I am reading...  The Interior Castle, by St. Teresa of Avila; and just starting to work through the New Testament again (trying to get the whole thing through without months of intervals...)  Also, hunting out the next Elizabeth Peters Amelia Peabody adventure to enjoy for light summer reading!  (Don't those words sound just delicious together? Light Summer Reading....)

A favorite quote for today...   “The mere brute pleasure of reading --the sort of pleasure a cow must have in grazing.” G.K.Chesterton

I am hoping... to have plenty of unstructured time this summer to just play with the children -- and read lots of fluffy, rootbeer-float-type books (No offence against GKC, but for me the pleasure is more sweet than grassy).

I am looking forward to... The first of June, when Dan and I get to go on a long, kidless, responsibility-free  25th Anniversary vacation together!

I am learning... how to obey my body when it says "REST, DAMMIT!"  (Oh. Did I say that out loud?)

Around the house... I give up on my kitchen floor. It's hopeless.

I am pondering... whether the children would notice if I really did give up on the kitchen floor.

One of my favorite things... Clean kitchen floors and children who exclaim in admiration and gratitude at them. (And then refrain from spilling things on them.)

A few plans for the rest of the week: =sigh= Yeah, the kitchen floor.  Deep cleaned.  And probably it's time for the refrigerators.  Plus getting ready for a garage sale this weekend. And cutting the little boys' hair. Plus working on wrapping up everyone's school years (homeschooled and otherwise).  And beginning a novena to St. Joseph today so that it will end on the feast of St. Joseph the Worker, May 1st.  

A peek into my day...  yesterday -- playing tag at the park in Ouray:

Who's it?

Theresa ("Seesa")

Catherine ("Captain")

Anna ("Anner")

Gabriel ("Gabey")

William: Take 1

William: Take 2

William: Take 3

William

The Linky for SWD for the months of March and April can be found here.

Novena to St. Joseph Begins Monday, April 23rd......

If You Want It to End on the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker,  May 1st

Here's a simple prayer that can be adapted to work for a novena:

Prayer to St. Joseph the Worker 


O glorious St. Joseph, model of all those who are devoted to labor, obtain for me the grace to work conscientiously, putting the call of duty above my natural inclinations, to work with gratitude and joy, in a spirit of penance for the remission of my sins, considering it an honor to employ and develop by means of labor the gifts received from God, to work with order, peace, moderation and patience, without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties, to work above all with purity of intention and detachment from self, having always death before my eyes and the account that I must render of time lost, of talents wasted, of good omitted, of vain complacency in success, so fatal to the work of God. All for Jesus, all through Mary, all after thine example, O Patriarch, St. Joseph. Such shall be my watchword in life and in death. Amen.

And these:
Prayer to St. Joseph the Workman 
Composed by Pope St. Pius X 

(State your petitions) 

O glorious St. Joseph, model of all those who are devoted to labor, 

Obtain for me the grace


 To work conscientiously, putting the call of duty above my natural inclinations, 

To work with gratitude and joy, in a spirit of penance for the remission of my sins, 
considering it an honor to employ and develop by means of labor the gifts received from God, 

To work with order, peace, moderation and patience, without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties, 

To work above all with purity of intention and detachment from self, 
having always death before my eyes and the account that I must render of time lost, 
of talents wasted, of good omitted, of vain complacency in success, so fatal to the work of God. 

All for Jesus, all through Mary, all after thine example, O Patriarch, St. Joseph. 
Such shall be my watchword in life and in death.
 Amen




Novena to St. Joseph the Worker

Joseph, by the work of your hands and the sweat of your brow, you supported Jesus and Mary, and had the Son of God as your fellow worker. Teach me to work as you did, with patience and perseverance, for God and for those whom God has given me to support. Teach me to see in my fellow workers the Christ who desires to be in them, that I may always be charitable and forbearing towards all. Grant me to look upon work with the eyes of faith, so that I shall recognize in it my share in God's own creative activity and in Christ's work of our redemption, and so take pride in it. When it is pleasant and productive, remind me to give thanks to God for it. And when it is burdensome, teach me to offer it to God, in reparation for my sins and the sins of the world.


O good father Joseph! I beg you, by all your sufferings, sorrows and joys, to obtain for me what I ask.


(Here name your petition.)


Obtain for all those who have asked my prayers, everything that is useful to them in the plan of God. Be near to me in my last moments, that I may eternally sing the praises of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Amen.


(Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be)

And one more favorite:

Traditional Novena Prayer to St. Joseph

Saint Joseph whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the Throne of God, I place in you all my interests and desires. Oh Saint Joseph, do assist me by your powerful intercession and obtain for me from your Divine Son, all spiritual blessings through Jesus Christ, Our Lord, so that having engaged here below your heavenly power, I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of fathers. Oh Saint Joseph, I never weary of contemplating you and Jesus asleep in your arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near your heart. Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me, and ask Him to return the kiss when I draw my dying breath. Saint Joseph, Patron of the departing souls, pray for us. Amen.

Find many other novenas to St. Joseph here.

Good Shepherd Sunday

"The Lost Sheep" by Alfred Soord

It never ceases to amaze me that even when I don't post on this blog, I still average 100 to 150 hits a day.  Isn't that wild??  Have no worries, though...  I haven't gotten any kind of swelled head about it. My Sitemeter and Blogger stats are very clear that the chief reason I have so many visitors is because I have so many pictures.  A large majority of my "hits" come from Google images -- and a large majority of those searches are for images of the Good Shepherd.  In fact, to date, I've had 24, 856 page views of this image-laden article since I posted it in April, 2010; I've had 210 views of that page just today -- and it's not even noon yet.  

This is very gratifying.

Not that so many people are coming to my wee humble blog (though I do love that!), but that so many people are looking for images of the Good Shepherd!

We hear so much about the evils of the internet and the searches that are made for unwholesome topics, that it's balm to my wounded Catholic sensibilities that there are also many many good-hearted people thinking of Faith and Goodness and Mercy and Salvation here on the world wide web, and looking for ways to illustrate it.  Father said in his sermon today that images of Christ as the Good Shepherd, though always popular, were especially beloved by the earliest Christians -- those whose connection to Christ was most acutely personal and edgy with import because it carried with it the very real possibility of persecution and even martyrdom.

 I wonder if Christians today don't especially feel the need of this comforting analogy of Jesus' for some of the same reason.  We can imagine, our Good Shepherd reaching over the cliffs, not only for our own wayward hearts, but for the misled and obstinate hearts of our loved ones who have strayed.  Today, it's common in the Western world to call one's self Christian, but very few have the courage to really lead a Christian life, and those that do are considered backward -- at best.  And, in many places in the world are openly persecuted.   In an age where it's accepted as the norm for the sheep to walk right into the fires of immorality or slip off the cliffs of apathy,  many of us find emotional survival in the knowledge of  the Shepherd's steadfast love and care for us.  It keeps us going.  He keeps us going.

Thank-you, God.

Jesus knew exactly what he was doing when he pointed up to the sheep grazing in the hills the day He first taught this lesson.  He knew the image of the Shepherd caring for His sheep would remain a comfort in our troubled world until the end of time.  I'm honored that this little corner of the web has had a very small piece in spreading this picture -- and its message.  Welcome to all Internet Travelers who've landed here today, looking for the Good Shepherd!

Happy Good Shepherd Sunday!

"The Good Shepherd" by William Dyce

Saturday Morning Cartoons

Dan is a very tolerant man.  I mean, he puts up with -- and even seems to enjoy -- having ten children under foot.  And through the years we've sheltered and cared for various and sundry dogs, fish, parakeets, baby goats (once for a short time), chicks, and dust mice -- but my husband always swore we would never have a cat in the house.  Their litterboxes stink.  They're underfoot, and  unfriendly.  And he was allergic.  Barn cats: OK.  House cats: never.

So, how did this happen?

Meet Gigi. Gigi -- short for Regina Maria. She goes outside visiting occasionally, but she is mostly an indoor kitty. She slips in, she slips out, room to room, silent as the fog.  Every once in a while she may deign to brush across your shins in a swift token of affection. (Or is it just that she has an itch on the top of her head?) The world's best lap warmer, she curls up in the corners of the most comfortable chairs, and suffers being unceremoniously dumped off, with unruffled dignity. She knows it is our loss, not hers; we would certainly be more comfortable with her than without her. She sits in the sun on skinniest windowsills (how she manages the balance is a mystery).  She rides around the house slung around Anna's shoulders, or carried like a baby in Cathy's arms.  She sits on the kitchen floor looking up at me as I brown ground beef for dinner, serene in the knowledge that I will eventually slop some onto the floor and will be grateful to Her Nibs for cleaning up after me.

So, yeah, there's a cat in the house alright.  I'm not sure how the girls got permission from Dan to keep her in.  I seem to have missed that.  But the girls are obsessive about keeping Gigi's litter box clean and sweet smelling.  It's in their bedroom, so it behooves them.  Thanks largely to the lack of cat odor, maybe, Dan just seems to not notice her existence. And it now seems to be the most natural thing in the world to the rest of us to have her slinking around.

 I don't know if Dan knew what he was in for when he let this one slip past him, but the all-boy, baseball-and-dogs world of the old days before the four big boys grew up and moved away, has become a mostly-girl world of skirts and ribbons and hair-do tutorial videos... My husband's worst nightmare has come to pass; he lives in a cat house.

(But we haven't noticed any sneezing....)

Believe it or Not: Nail Gun Art

We don't believe it.
What do  you think?

Monday Morning Short Timers' Disease

"Isn't it time for summer vacation yet?"

Hard getting back into the swing of things after Easter vacation.

A Catholic Story of the Titanic

The untold story of the Titanic’s Catholic priest who went down hearing confessions

BY PATRICK B. CRAINE

• Fri Apr 13, 2012 14:14 EST
• Comments (60)

•  

Amidst all the tales of chivalry from the Titanic disaster there is one that’s not often told.

Fr. Thomas Byles

It is that of Fr. Thomas Byles, the Catholic priest who gave up two spots on a lifeboat in favour of offering spiritual aid to the other victims as they all went down with the “unsinkable” vessel.

A 42-year-old English convert, Fr. Byles was on his way to New York to offer the wedding Mass for his brother William. Reports suggest that he was reciting his breviary on the upper deck when the Titanic struck the iceberg in the twilight hours of Sunday, April 14th, 1912.

According to witnesses, as the ship went down the priest helped women and children get into the lifeboats, then heard confessions, gave absolution, and led passengers in reciting the Rosary.

Agnes McCoy, one of the survivors, says that as the great ship sank, Fr. Byles “stood on the deck with Catholics, Protestants and Jews kneeling around him.”

“Father Byles was saying the rosary and praying for the repose of the souls of those about to perish,” she told the New York Telegram on April 22, 1912, according to the website devoted to his memory,FatherByles.com.

In the words of the priest’s friend Fr. Patrick McKenna, “He twice refused the offer of a place in a boat, saying his duty was to stay on the ship while one soul wanted his ministrations.”

Nearly two weeks after the disaster, The Church Progress in St. Louis, Missouri wrote this moving tribute to the heroic priest:

In almost every line that has been written, and in every sentence that has been spoken, there stands boldly out above every other expression a picture of sublime heroism that will be copied into the pages of history. And well it may, for it is deserving of that honor.

But when it is, mention should be made of one whom pens and tongues have almost forgotten in their accounts of this awful sea tragedy. Among those who safely reached the land again no one seems to have been aware of his presence on the ship, but we may hope that many who meet him in a blissful eternity will praise God that Father Thomas Byles was there to administer absolution unto them.

*As "borrowed" from LifeSite News

May the Souls of All the Faithful Departed, and especially those who perished on the Titanic 100 years ago, rest in peace.  Amen

Eighty-nine and a Half MILLION Hits...

And a half dozen have been ours.  We're mesmorized by these guys.
I love acoustic guitar and -- gosh -- you just have to appreciate the skill that went into this schtick!

Eight Years Ago Today

This Sweet Little Guy Was Born

(The boy, not the dog...)

And he's been blessing our lives ever since.

Happy Birthday, Gabriel Joseph -- the young man who wanted work gloves  and stuffed monkeys for his eighth birthday.  How could you not love that?

We love you, Gabe!!

* For those who may wonder...  We're babysitting the puppy for a friend in the hospital.  Any of our friends who know June Morrison -- this is her puppy.  June's suffering acute bronchitis but will be OK and out of the hospital soon.  We may have a hard time giving her back her puppy, though...

What to Give Children

And some other bequests, not so sublime, not so long-lasting, but definitely more concrete:

 chocolate "Peeps"

 gourmet jelly beans

peppermint patties

rubber "slap hands" 

 butterfly yo-yo`s 

coffeeeeeeee 

Velcro balls

sleeping in

scrambled eggs

root beer in a bottle 

the left-overs from the ham

climbing the willow tree 

watching movies

hugs and kisses

staying up until 9:00

monster stencils

balloons

dinosaurs

playing at the park

(These from the children's point of view, added on anonymously throughout the day today...)

Spring; And What Of It

There was a day...  It was not too long ago...  In fact, I declare it was so recent I can still feel the breeze of it having just passed...   Funny how it does that.  Time passes.  But you know how sometimes a moment freezes in your memory in such a way that you can hold it up against the present like a Spot-the-Difference puzzle?   I'm sitting here holding up such a memory right now and here's what the picture looks like:

 I'd gotten up early one morning not-so-very-long-ago and slipped on a robe because the house was cold and I had to be the ogre who dragged the children from their cozy beds to get ready for school that day.  (When I could barely rouse my own self.)  But, ugh.  It was my duty. I couldn't make Dan do it; he'd gotten up for early Mass and taken early-bird Gabe with him, so someone had to get the rest of the gang going. (Stretch, snarl, snort.)  I found my slippers and made my way around the house, aiming in a stumbly, yawny way for the stairs.

The sun had  risen just enough to outline the big eastern window over the dining room table, but  the air was thin and the light, grey.  Squinting out, I hoped for some hint of budding on the trees.  I willed myself to see some green out there.   But...  (sigh) Alas. Nothing.  Looking out the patio doors in the living room, I peered into our neighbors' orchard, but it didn't look any more hopeful.  Not a hint of a bud or blossom. The apple and pear and peach trees were as dead to the world as the snoozing kids upstairs.  (Again, I sigh.) The mud of the most recent snow trailed across the mudroom (man is that place aptly named!), and a pile of coats lay half collapsed on a chair just inside the kitchen door.  And, oh, looky!  There you are, lovely, sturdy, dependable coffee pot!   I yearned for a cup of coffee to take the chill off (body and soul!).  But it was barely past Laetare Sunday.  And. I had given up coffee for Lent.  Fooey.  The drear seemed never. ending.

Then, I don't know exactly when it happened, but the days passed.
 Somehow.
Don't ask me...
I don't know.
It's a blur now.

 But. all-of-a-sudden ------ SPROING! 

 It SPRUNG!

And here it is! Here we are!

It's SPRING!

And I want to go on record, officially, before all creation (at least all creation on the internet, that happens by here) as saying:  Thank-You, God.  Thank-You, thank-You, thank-You!

The air is soft this morning, the light golden and pink; outside our morning bright windows, the willows are waving their joyously verdant fronds; the elms and cottonwood are juggling armloads of green confetti budlets;  the orchard is awake, stretching and spinning en pointe in pink and white tutus; and the mud (at least for the present) is dried up, swept out and mopped away.  There are no more winter coats sprawled about the house, but a half dozen bikes have sprouted up in the driveway and gossipy little groupings of lawn chairs have gathered in cozy circles on the patio and porch.

Easter has come; Our Lord is risen; Springtime is here; God's in His Heaven; all's right with the world; and Yours Truly is sitting here drinking a cup of coffee!


And I toast you with this cup of coffee! 

Happy 

Easter!

Happy 

Spring!

Happy

Happy

Everything! 

He Is Risen As He Said, Alleluia!

SO happy to be praying the Regina Coeli now!

Happy, Happy Easter, Everyone!

Queen of Heaven, rejoice. Alleluia.

For He, whom thou wast worthy to bear. Alleluia.

Has risen as He said. Alleluia.

Pray for us to God. Alleluia.

V. Rejoice and be glad, O Virgin Mary. Alleluia.

R. Because the Lord is truly risen, Alleluia.

Let us pray

O God, Who by the Resurrection of Thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, hast been pleased to give joy to the whole world, grant we beseech Thee, that through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, His Mother, we may attain the joys of eternal life. Through the same Christ, our Lord. Amen.

* The Easter prayer Regina Coeli (“Queen of Heaven” in Latin) is a wonderful tribute to our Lord’s resurrection and to the Blessed Virgin Mary (pictured in her Coronation at left). Although its origins are unknown, it dates back to the 13th century.

The Regina Coeli is one of four antiphons (short liturgical texts sung or chanted, often as seen below, in a responsorial pattern) dedicated to Our Lady. It is often sung as a hymn and has had numerous musical settings in its original Latin text, including several by Mozart.
Traditionally, it is prayed standing, often at noon, in place of another well-known prayer, the Angelus, during the Easter Season from Holy Saturday until Pentecost.

(Our Catholic Prayers)

*I'll be back to regular blogging after the pixie dust settles and the sugar highs subside here!  So many things I've wanted to blog about over Lent -- but, you watch, now I won't be able to think of a thing to write about!

Thirteenth Station of the Cross

Saturday, Holy Week:

Jesus is Taken Down from the Cross

It was still dark and the sky cloudy when they reached Mount Calvary, where they found the servants who had been sent on already arrived, and the holy women sitting weeping in front of the Cross. Cassius and several soldiers who were converted remained at a certain distance, and their demeanour was respectful and reserved. Joseph and Nicodemus described to the Blessed Virgin and John all they had done to save Jesus from an ignominious death, and learned from them how they had succeeded in preventing the bones of our Lord from being broken, and how the prophecy had been fulfilled. They spoke also of the wound which Cassius had made with his lance. No sooner was the centurion Abenadar arrived than they began, with the deepest recollection of spirit, their mournful and sacred labour of taking down from the Cross and embalming the adorable body of our Lord.

The Blessed Virgin and Magdalen were seated at the foot of the Cross; while, on the right-hand side, between the cross of Dismas and that of Jesus, the other women were engaged in preparing the linen, spices, water, sponges, and vases. Cassius also came forward, and related to Abenadar the miraculous cure of his eyes. All were deeply affected, and their hearts overflowing with sorrow and love; but, at the same time, they preserved a solemn silence, and their every movement was full of gravity and reverence. Nothing broke the stillness save an occasional smothered word of lamentation, or a stifled groan, which escaped from one or other of these holy personages, in spite of their earnest eagerness and deep attention to their pious labour. Magdalen gave way unrestrainedly to her sorrow, and neither the presence of so many different persons, nor any other consideration, appeared to distract her from it.

Nicodemus and Joseph placed the ladders behind the Cross, and mounted them, holding in their hands a large sheet, to which three long straps were fastened. They tied the body of Jesus, below the arms and knees, to the tree of the Cross, and secured the arms by pieces of linen placed underneath the hands. Then they drew Out the nails, by pushing them from behind with strong pins pressed upon the points. The sacred hands of Jesus were thus not much shaken, and the nails fell easily out of the wounds; for the latter had been made wider by the weight of the body, which, being now supported by the cloth, no longer hung on the nails. The lower part of the body, which since our Lord’s death had sunk down on the knees, now rested in a natural position, supported by a sheet fastened above to the arms of the Cross. Whilst Joseph was taking out the nail from the left hand, and then allowing the left arm, supported by its cloth, to fall gently down upon the body, Nicodemus was fastening the right arm of Jesus to that of the Cross, as also the sacred crowned head, which had sunk on the right shoulder. Then he took out the right nail, and having surrounded the arm with its supporting sheet, let it fall gently on to the body. At the same time, the centurion Abenadar, with great difficulty, drew out the large nail which transfixed the feet. Cassius devoutly received the nails, and laid them at the feet of the Blessed Virgin.

Then Joseph and Nicodemus, having placed ladders against the front of the Cross, in a very upright position, and close to the body, untied the upper strap, and fastened it to one of the hooks on the ladder; they did the same with the two other straps, and passing them all on from hook to hook, caused the sacred body to descend gently towards the centurion, who having mounted upon a stool received it in his arms, holding it below the knees; while Joseph and Nicodemus, supporting the upper part of the body, came gently down the ladder, stopping at every step, and taking every imaginable precaution, as would be done by men bearing the body of some beloved friend who had been grievously wounded. Thus did the bruised body of our Divine Saviour reach the ground.

It was a most touching sight. They all took the same precautions, the same care, as if they had feared to cause Jesus some suffering. They seemed to have concentrated on the sacred body all the love and veneration which they had felt for their Saviour during his life. The eyes of each were fixed upon the adorable body, and followed all its movements; and they were continually uplifting their hands towards Heaven, shedding tears, and expressing in every possible way the excess of their grief and anguish. Yet they all remained perfectly calm, and even those who were so busily occupied about the sacred body broke silence but seldom, and, when obliged to make some necessary remark, did so in a low voice. During the time that the nails were being forcibly removed by blows of the hammer, the Blessed Virgin, Magdalen, and all those who had been present at the Crucifixion, felt each blow transfix their hearts. The sound recalled to their minds all the sufferings of Jesus, and they could not control their trembling fear, lest they should again hear his piercing cry of suffering; although, at the same time, they grieved at the silence of his blessed lips, which proved, alas too surely, that he was really dead. When the body was taken down it was wrapped in linen from the knees to the waist, and then placed in the arms of the Blessed Virgin, who, overwhelmed with sorrow and love, stretched them forth to receive their precious burden.

From The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ
by Anne Catherine Emmerich

Pietà - An Italian word meaning pity, compassion, and sorrow, it is strongly associated with works of art portraying the Virgin Mary holding and mourning over the dead body of Jesus. Although the term derives from the Latin word pio, which means pious, pietà does not itself mean pious or piety.
(Definition from here.)

Michaelangelo

The Rome Pieta, sculpted in 1499 when he was just 24 years old

Michaelangelo

The Florence Pieta, one of the artist's last sculptures, finished c. 1550.

El Greco

Pieta, painted end of 16th century

Bellini

Pieta, 1501

Boticelli

Pieta, c. 1495

                                                                           Moreau

Pieta, 1876

Annibale Carracci

Pieta, 1599

(My second favorite)

Annibale Carracci

Pieta with St. Francis and Mary Magdalene, 1602

                                                              William A. Bouguereau
                                                                     Pieta, 1876
(The Bouguereau is my favorite...)

The Thirteenth Station (St. Alphonsus de Liguori)
Jesus Is Taken Down from the Cross
V: We adore You, O Christ, and we praise You. (Genuflect)
R: Because, by Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world. (Rise)


V: Consider how, after Our Lord had died, He was taken down from the cross by two of His disciples, Joseph and Nicodemus, and placed in the arms of His afflicted Mother. She received Him with unutterable tenderness and pressed Him close to her bosom. (Kneel)

R: O Mother of Sorrows, / for the love of Your Son, / accept me as Your servant and pray to Him for me, / And You, my Redeemer, since you have died for me, / allow me to love You, / for I desire only You and nothing more. / I love You, Jesus my Love, / and I am sorry that I have offended You. / Never let me offend You again. / Grant that I may love You always; and then do with me as You will.
(Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory be.)
By the cross with you to stay

There with you to weep and pray

Is all I ask of you to give.

Thirteenth Station (St, Francis Asissi)
 Jesus Is Taken Down From the Cross



V. We adore Thee, O Christ, and we praise Thee.
R. Because by Thy holy Cross, Thou hast redeemed the world.

Jesus did not descend from the Cross, but remained on it till His death. When taken down, He rested on the bosom of His beloved Mother as He had so often done in life. Persevere in your good resolutions, and do not flee from the cross. For he who perseveres till the end shall be saved. Consider, moreover, how pure the heart should be that receives the body and blood of Jesus Christ in the adorable Sacrament of the Altar.


O Lord Jesus crucified! * I most earnestly entreat Thee: * Help me do what is right * and let me not be separated from Thy Cross, * for on it I desire to live and to die. * Create in me, O Lord, a clean heart, * that I may worthily receive Thee in Holy Communion, and that Thou mayest remain in me, * and I in Thee, * for all eternity.

OFur Father, Hail Mary, Glory be.