Face of the Newly Born ~

There is no end to looking — We look and look at a baby's face and can never get enough. What is it that we see? Is it something virginal, unspotted, something beautiful that was ours that we have lost and are seeing there again for a limited time, knowing that it will soon disappear?

Solemnity in the Streets ~

It was truly magnificent! Feast of Corpus Christi in our village in Germany. 60 altar girls/boys, 30 choir members, 35 musicians of the brass band, grown ups and children in the local costume, 30 members of the fire brigade in dress uniform. The priest under the canopy with the monstrance, men carrying church banners, all marching slowly through the streets to stop at three different altars for the blessing with the Eucharist. What deeply impressed me was the atmosphere of awe and the many people along the way who would go down on their knee or bless themselves as the monstrance passed by.

The Soul's Desire ~

The advice of the wise old monks stands: Avoid the things of the world, do not let them divert you from the one important thing, Him, for whom your soul longs.

Voices from on High ~

I look up into the blue but can't catch sight of the lark singing all those glissandos to thank You for a perfect Sunday morning.

David ~ With Sword and Harp ~

The story about Saul and David [1 Kings 16 ff] reads like a drama script. Been reading only one or two paragraphs a day, but the suspense keeps mounting. There are lessons we can learn from this David!

Should Little Things Hurt So Much? ~

That sinking feeling I had yesterday when I saw that the zinnia and calendula I had planted and had been nursing along since sowing the seeds in April were gone. The snails had visited overnight and had destroyed most of the batch.

Good to See You Again ~

The chimney swifts are here again and they are having a great time this morning flitting and darting in the light breeze.

Out in the Fields ~

It was on a hillside, a beautiful long meadow where the wild orchids were in full bloom. Our group admired them at the side of the path and then ventured into the fields deeper to get pictures and get a close view. An expert told us about the many varieties and the dangers from pesticides and acids. You felt as if they were now yours if you were able to identify them and name them.

I felt the elusiveness of the beauty of flowers. It is for us to see, to enjoy, but their beauty remains apart from us. It belongs to God alone, and He is beyond all possession.

Thank You ~

How thoughtful of you, Cheryl, Pia and Bob to send me your congratulations and well-wishes. The never-expected surely does enliven. As a grandfather you made me feel right chipper again. Thank you for your kind words. Charles

Letter from Tamara ~

Dear Charles,
I hope that my letter is finding you in high spirits even though all of the events in the world are not making humanity feel so cheerful. Anyway, that is what I feel.

I have a big favor to ask and I hope that I am not bothering you. I will never forget that you helped me with the Auschwitz museum. Without you I would not have sent my art to this place. Time in general is limited and I have so much to accomplish. What scares me is that I do not have much time. I came to the realization this year that to purify my soul the paintings should be shown in Germany also. I do not know to whom to turn or what to say. Some places around the world, when I approached them with my art, did not even answer. Europe is not any more the world of yesterday of Stefan Zweig.

I hope that you are in your creative period. I am creating with a slightly different perspective which brings me a lot of satisfaction. I am not a person who thinks about time, dates and numbers. It was never important to me. But when I start feeling the limits, I start thinking about the end of time.

I am sorry to bother you. I would be very glad if you could help me with a name of something else.
I wish you a nice summer.
Warmly,
Tamara

Gift from Heaven ~

What does a first time grandfather say when his daughter, the little baby girl I used to play with on the soft carpet in the living room, has given birth to her own baby now? She kept waiting for me to say something on the phone. . .

Meeting with a Poetess ~

Yesterday we were sitting in a restaurant. She is eighteen and college bound. She wanted me to see some of her new poems. There was one she had written about her mother, about breaking loose and going off on her own:

"I tried to hold myself in your arms, Mother . . .", she wrote.

Beautiful, poetic idea. I tried not to show her how deeply it had moved me.