Winding Down

 Winding Down

As the old year winds down, 
and a new year begins to unfold, 
I think of ways that I can make
positive change in the upcoming days. 
Winding down,
opportunity presents itself in 
the small, seemingly insignificant daily deeds:
making coffee, tea, or other morning drink, 
teaching students unique ways to think,
exercising to keep my body in shape 
by walking, cleaning, or enjoying the landscape,
praying to God to provide me guidance 
then listening to you with your usual brilliance.
Winding down, 
I know this is right 
for positive thoughts enter my mind day and night.
‘tis good to live in this memorable way
for more days, more years will pass
when at last, we greet that spectacular 
‘One day...’

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear my reading of this by clicking HERE.

Christmas Sunset

 

Christmas Sunset, Danbury, Connecticut

Christmas Sunset

The sun retreats on this Christmas Day, 

as I reflect on: 

Peace

in my soul, praying for all who suffer 

from life's distress to find God's Peace. 

Love

in my heart, praying for those whom I love 

to see how their words have inspired me. 

Joy

in my voice, praying for the world to hear 

the music within and share this song with others.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear me recite this poem by clicking HERE. 

A Christmas Poem: Sweet Savor

This Christmas poem was written a few years ago after I overheard a woman in the grocery store concerned that she didn't have enough cloves for her hot mulled wine. (Four bottles of cloves weren't enough? Ha! Oh dear...) I think Mary spoke to me personally that day, whispering into my subconscious, "Jeanne, you have to write this.... now!"  Merry Christmas!

Painting by Andrea Solari, ca. 1507

Sweet Savor

What shall I drink? Egg nog or grog?

What did the Holy Family drink

on that holiest night of nights?

Did Mary lean over to Joseph

after giving birth to Jesus and say,

“Joseph, be a dear and pour me

another glass of Chardonnay?”

To which Joseph replied,

“Mary, Darling, all we have is

a little hot mulled wine left over

from the party last night.”

Or…

Did a father, proud

after such a long trip

offer his bride a sip

of water to give her joy

upon delivering this

beautiful, healthy Boy?

Did the baby cry

in a humble home

and look to his mother,

so beautiful and warm,

snuggle up  

to her swollen breast

and drink of the milk

from the Mother Blessed?

© Jeanne I. Lakatos 

To hear my reading of this poem, click HERE.

December 22: Feast Day of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini

 “Work in me, oh adorable Heart of Jesus, because you know well how incapable I am of doing perfectly everything that you want of me." (Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini) 

This saintly woman is important to me because from birth to age 14 years, I attended the Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini Catholic Church in Allen Park, Michigan. I was baptized, attended my First Confession, received First Holy Communion, and Confirmation there. Mother Cabrini has been an important part of my spiritual journey and I am grateful to have learned about her devotion to Jesus Christ from a very young age. 

Fourth Week of Advent

As the final week of Advent 2025 arrives, I have concluded my university obligations and finally, I have the time to enjoy the splendor of peace and preparation for the Christmas season and the beginning of a New Year. Although most of the snow has melted, we've had plenty of frigid temperatures and the meteorologists indicate that a bit of snow may be on its way. Therefore, I fill my heart and mind with gratitude for health, love, music and joy in my life as I prepare for this festive end to 2025. 

Wishing you all a blessed Holiday Season!

"Snow and Wind"

To me, the holiday season includes memories of snow and wind, family gatherings in Michigan, where, no matter how intense the weather, we always gathered at my Grandma's house to celebrate. As an adult, those memories revive with each new 'winter weather advisory,' and, with a lovely fire in the fireplace, all outside hostilities melt away.

Photos taken with my Canon SureShot in Danbury, CT

Snow and Wind

Snow speaks silently,

caresses my heart

with memories,

tickles my soul

with anticipation,

blends with ice

to generate adrenalin

focus.

Howling wind

erases impressions

with its jealous grasp

stings my cheeks

wraps around my bones.

My body shivers

to generate adrenalin

warmth.

Fire beyond the hearth

stoked with trees 

that once shaded, once housed,

once bore sparkling icicles

now draws me into its 

crackling core

to melt adrenalin

dreams.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this poem, click HERE. 

Sandy Hook Elementary School Tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut

(Photo from Google Images)

On a Friday morning, thirteen years ago, as I sat at my desk, grading final papers, I received word of a shooting in a town nearby. The first news indicated that there were multiple shooters and one or more were unaccounted for. Overhead, helicopters circled the university as ambulances whaled down the street to Danbury Hospital, located two blocks away from my office.

By day's end, this entire area was in mourning, for the beautiful town of Newtown was now in the history books, not as the idyllic southern New England town we all love and cherish around here, but in the same league with Aurora and Columbine, Colorado and scores of other towns over which this cloud of horror has shrouded. As the names became revealed to us, not one person in the area did not have some connection with the victims or their families. We're all in mourning in the Newtown-Danbury area, once given the title as the 'Safest town in the State.'

No further words will come to me. Please pray for peace, understanding and the power of love this holiday season.

Blessings,
Dr. Jeanne Iris

Memorial of Saint Lucia (Lucy): December 13

 

Painting by Francesco del Cossa, circa 1474

The Story of Saint Lucia (Lucy)

from: 

 https://www.stlucy-campbell.org/about-staint-lucy/

December 13th is our patron saint’s feast day! Saint Lucy (Santa Lucia) was a young virgin martyr in Syracuse, Sicily (Italy) in the late 200s A.D. who was put to death in 304 A.D. Excavation in Syracuse revealed a tomb dating to the 4th century with an inscription that it belonged to St. Lucy (her relics were removed hundreds of years after her death and are believed to currently be in Venice, Italy). Beyond this, little factual information is known about St. Lucy. Her name, Lucia in Italian, is believed to be derived from the Latin Lux, a term for “light.” The earliest known written information about St. Lucy’s story is from the late 400s, Acts of the Martyrs, which indicates there was already veneration shown to her by that time. By the 6th century, legends about St. Lucy had spread throughout Italy and other parts of Europe. Although the stories vary somewhat, the common theme in all of them is that St. Lucy dedicated herself to Christ and to serving the poor, which angered the pagan to whom she was betrothed. He denounced her as a Christian to the authorities, who then attempted first to drag her to a house of prostitution and then, when they could not physically move her, to burn her – which was also a failure. Ultimately, they ended St. Lucy’s life with a dagger or sword to her throat.

St. Lucy’s legend holds that her eyes were gauged out and God then provided her with new eyes. This came about, it is said, because her pagan suitor loved her beautiful eyes. In some versions of this story, St. Lucy plucked out her eyes herself and gave them to her suitor; in other versions, her eyes were removed by her persecutors. St. Lucy is often depicted holding a small plate with two eyes on it. She is the patron saint of the blind.

Legend has it that St. Lucy delivered wheat and bread to the poor and homebound, and possibly to Christians staying in the catacombs, often in the darkness of night to avoid detection. She would carry a lamp or wear a crown of candles (to free her hands for carrying food) to light her way. Because of this, the lamp and wreath of candles are symbols of St. Lucy. Hence the lamp that has long been a symbol of our parish.

According to legends of the Middle Ages in a couple different locations in Italy, including Sicily, ships filled with wheat came into harbors on St. Lucy’s feast day, saving the people from a famine. A Sicilian tradition based on this legend is to make a soup and a dessert with wheat berries on St. Lucy’s feast day. In Croatia, Christmas wheat is planted in a pot (indoors) on St. Lucy’s feast day. By Christmas Eve, the wheat shoots have emerged and the wheat is placed next to the manger scene as a gift to Jesus and a reminder for us that God feeds our souls with the Eucharist and our bodies with wheat.

Likewise, according to Scandinavian legend of the Middle Ages, during a terrible famine in southern Sweden and on the darkest day of the year, people saw a boat sailing across Lake Vannern. St. Lucia was at its prow, dressed in white and glowing with an unearthly light. When the boat came to the shore, she handed out enough sacks of wheat for the people to have bread through the winter. Scandinavian St. Lucia traditions include making “Lussekatter,” a slightly sweet saffron breakfast bread shaped in specific ways, and visiting the poor, sick, or homebound to serve the Lussekatter with coffee and to sing the Santa Lucia song.

There are many other traditions associated with St. Lucy in various cultures that were brought to the Americas and are still celebrated today, from the East Coast (Society of St. Lucy of Syracuse in Hartford, CT) to the Midwest (Sicilian Italian-based St. Lucy festival in Omaha, NE) to the West Coast (Scandinavian Santa Lucia service and celebration at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Sacramento, CA).   All the traditions incorporate symbolic meaning of St. Lucy as the bearer of Christ’s light in the darkness of winter from her feast day (Dec. 13) until His birth at Christmas.

While it may be hard to distinguish fact from legend surrounding our patron saint, one thing is certain: This 3rd century Christian dedicated her life to Christ and to serving others and is an example to us for how we can use our time, talents, and treasure to carry the light of Christ to others in their time of need.

“To God’s servants the right words will not be wanting, for the Holy Spirit speaks in us. . . All who live piously and chastely are temples of the Holy Spirit.” –Attributed to St. Lucy

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

Immaculate Conception

by Jusepe de Ribera, 1635

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception

Many people misunderstand the term, Immaculate Conception, thinking that because this term has been associated with Jesus' mother, Mary, and the Virgin birth, that because He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, that became the immaculate conception. However, those individuals would be wrong.

Mary was born with her soul in an immaculate state in order to give birth to the Son of God. 

In Preparation for Life

Preparation for Life 

In preparation for this wonderful life

I wish to send to you 

a cup of gentle tidings

that will comfort through and through.

Remember your uniqueness,

that God's Blessings are in you,

and use those gifts to be the one

who uplifts humanity true. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Winter's Winds Conquered

A Wintry East Lake, Danbury, Connecticut 

Winter's Winds Conquered

Winds from the North wail

as if they are reminding me 

of something I may have forgotten, 

like a friend in need, or items out of place

to which I should focus my attentions. 

The winds are relentless. 

Perhaps, they are telling me to be the same. 

Don't give up! It's all fine; have faith. 

My curiosity piqued, I lift my gaze

 to feel the Sun's warmth, strength, guidance.

So I make a pot of steaming beef stew 

with thick, rich gravy to warm me inside. 

Then, I whip up a batch of cornbread

of course, in my cast iron pot:

Vittles that warm the body, heart, and soul. 

Then, thoughts turn to you with your radiance:

warmth that still rivals the sun's glow, 

and I am at peace, smiling from memories,

the ones always embracing my heart, 

their fervent comfort conquering winter's bite.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

You can hear me recite this verse by clicking HERE. 

Happy Thanksgiving! (Click the photo to hear a lovely medley of Thanksgiving Hymns.)

(Photo from Google Images)

As Thanksgiving Day draws near, and we Americans reflect upon the many blessings in our lives, I extend my sincere thanks to all of you ladies and gentlemen who have visited this blog. Your kind words and gentle spirits have meant the world to me. 

God bless! ~ Dr. Jeanne Iris

Be Leaf - Belief

An innovative idea is a call to action to make a difference in this world from a perspective of Love. A single leaf can be an example of a metaphor for the human condition. 

Since transformation originates from a single notion, I thought this little poem may contribute a genesis of belief.  

Oak tree leaves from my garden

 

Be Leaf 

Here

remains the leaf

not insignificant

silent, 

well formed

turned over and over.

Suspended,

it resides in belief

of the sublime reminder:

 the Journey of  Love

emanates, embraces,

 enwraps, ensues... 

in God's time.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos  

To hear me recite this, please click HERE.

Sydney Owenson: Rituals and Political Reality through Saint Mary Magdalene in Her Narrative, 'Saint Clair'

Stained Glass Image of Mary Magdalene, surrounded by roses

from Google Images

From my book, Innovation in Rhetoric in the Writing of Sydney Owenson...
pp. 208-209:

In her novel, St. Clair, Owenson presents autonomy through her lexical choices to illustrate the dichotomy of ritual, be it societal or religious. In doing so, she presents the conundrum of political ritual, that of electing or promoting individuals into public office in order to appease an elitist few at the expense of the majority who must abide by the established legalities: 

I remember to have seen in a Benedictine convent at Vendome a relic which raised a considerable revenue to its possessors, from the superstitious devotion which was paid to it; it was a crystal vial, presented by an angel to Mary Magdalene, and supposed to have contained the tear dropped by her divine Reformer to the memory of his departed friend. The allusion may be profane; but my faded rose-leaf, with the tear of genius and sensibility, is to me what the sacred vial is to the monks of St Benedict; from a motive less devout, I confess, in one sense, but certainly more disinterested in another. (St. Clair, vol. I, pp. 166-167)

As Sydney Owenson interweaves the blind devotion to rituals of Catholics with those of the French Revolution, she carefully demonstrates the affiliation of church and state, contrary to legislative decrees in the British Act of Union 1801, which states that those of a particular religious affiliation would not be permitted to hold public office. Thus, those jurisdictions, which primarily consist of Catholic citizens, would not receive representation within the governmental forums and subsequently, would not receive legislation in their favor. Owenson presents this conflicting belief system by cleverly choosing Mary Magdalene, the woman chosen by a few selected medieval scribes to be represented historically as a woman scorned, yet in Owenson's narrative, St. Clair, Mary Magdalene is the source of a worshipped relic. In her revolutionary, albeit romantic, style, Owenson challenges her aristocratic audience to reconsider its dependence on ritualistic prejudice against the population it wishes to control. 

Owenson concludes this passage with a reference to a rose, her personal symbol for Ireland. She uses the adjectives, ‘faded, with a tear of genius and sensibility,’ to describe this weathered bloom. This incongruous set of descriptions for a flower held as a ‘sacred vial’ indicates a conflicted perspective. In the following sentence, she reveals with more clarity her conflict, “I confess in one sense but certainly more disinterested in another.” If Owenson attempts to confess to her reading audience her own disinterest in the viability of questionable sacredness in religious relics, she does so by linking her beloved countrymen and women with the possibilities of becoming more conscious of their political reality through their symbolic treasures, such as the weathered rose as the symbol of ancient luster.