Saturday, April 30, 2011

FRANZISKA NOTES May 2011

Franziska Notes
No.8/5 May 2011

The entire world has recently witnessed the pomp and circumstance of the royal wedding in England. The carefully choreographed and rehearsed pageantry was a pleasure to watch and appropriate for the occasion. This is not where we live our daily lives however. So it is comforting to remember that our inspiration, Mother Franziska Lechner, began her life in a very small Bavarian village and a farm house. The many people and animals, as well as the capriciousness of the weather and national events demanded a spontaneity and creativity to master the unforeseen events. We can feel comfortable with Franziska Lechner. She would understand the young mother who feels frustrated with the behavior of her small children at Sunday Mass. She would understand the worry of the caregiver who suffers with a loved one descending into dementia. The month of May lets us see how God, the creator, loves the spontaneous. One day everything is dreary and cold and the tiny leaf buds are hunkered so tight it seems there is no hope of life at all. Then comes the first warm, sunny day and the loveliest flowers and tender young leaves appear as a lovely surprise. In our world we can go to the internet and order flowers to be carefully arranged and sent to celebrate loved ones who are miles away. There is also the sudden thought of picking a few violets by the way and bringing them home or pointing them out to a child. They cost us nothing but easily rival the happiness brought by the costly arrangement. As we look forward to the Feast of Pentecost let us ask the Holy Spirit, the God of surprises, for the gift of awareness and readiness to do the little things that bring joy. How sad if we wasted our lives thinking of the great heroic deeds that we never have occasion to perform, while all around are people, including ourselves, who need to be cheered by little unexpected kindness, gifts and visions of beauty.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

The Legend of the Larkspur

The friends of Jesus were very sad. They did not understand that Jesus died on the cross for all people so that they could have their sins forgiven and go to live forever with him in heaven.

They sadly placed his body in a tomb that was like a cave and put a big rock in front of it. Then they went away. But a little bunny hopped onto their path and tried to stop them. “Don’t go away,” he tried to say. “Don’t you remember that Jesus said he would rise again and live forever?” The people could not hear the little bunny so they continued on their way. Now he was all alone in the dark with only sleeping soldiers guarding the tomb. It was cold and he was lonely and a little scared but he would not go away. He knew that Jesus would be alive again because he believed what he said. Then, just before the sun came up the stone in front of the tomb started to glow and then rolled away. There was a great light and in the middle was Jesus, all alive and beautiful. The little bunny hopped up to him with a happy heart. “You really kept your promise to rise again. I knew you would!” He said to Jesus. Jesus smiled at the little bunny and blessed him. “You have great faith in believing my words. I will reward you and let people remember your faith forever.” Jesus showed the bunny the little blue flower that was growing there. “This flower will always have your face in the middle so that people for all time will have the courage to believe in my word.” Now, whenever we see the little bunny in the Larkspur flower we must remember that we can trust what Jesus says.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Memories of a Summer in Hochstrass

Memories of a Summer in Hochstrass

It was January of 1961 and a few of us teachers were eating our lunch in the cramped little closet by the school cafeteria. Sister Fidelis our Provincial came in and said that she wanted to see me after I finished my lunch. The five string beans on my plate turned to stone. I said that my lunch was finisned because I could no longer swallow. She looked around and decided it really wasn’t confidential and told me that they had many American children in the nursery in Frankfurt, Germany and wanted an American sister. Since I already knew German she would give me the first chance but I was not obliged. I responded immediately that I would go. When she said I could take my time to think about it I said that I had been thinking about it since I was on the Holy Year trip with my Father the year before. At the Eucharistic Congress in Munich, after spending a week with some Brazilian Sisters and meeting the Sisters in Edling, I made up my mind to grasp any opportunity to live the FDC life internationally.

On May 7, the day of the German Surrender in World War II and after Sputnik and the meeting of President Kennedy with Krucschev in Vienna, I landed in Frankfurt. I was twenty-five years old and everyone I met in that community was “very old”. In spite of the warm greeting, I cried the entire night. “What had I done. I left behind everything familiar and every one I depended on”. The parish church bells woke me as did the superior, Sister Inviolata Eibel. “I am so sorry that I have to wake you, but it is Sunday, I am sure you want to go to Mass.”

I got used to the routine of the house, which in those days was very similar to that of Arrochar, Staten Island. I was given a group of four-year-olds, mixed German and American children. I learned German songs and how to tell American parents what “gookamal” and “stuehlehoch” means.

One day, at lunch which was dinner, I announced that I would have to make my final vows. Normally I should have presented that fact in a humble request, but it was accepted. The superior immediately made plans to send me to Vienna for the “preparation”.

I was put on a train that necessitated a change of trains in Salzburg, but I made the transition successfully. I went to the Mother House. I had been there the year before with my father, but now I belonged. The sisters were wonderful and I met my companions for the “preparation” who told me that we would be going to a wonderful place called Hochstrass because one of our group, Sister Helene., was a teacher there and could not get away because the school term was still on. Later I learned of my good fortune. The “preparation” was usually spent in Vienna where the tasks consisted of scrubbing out huge cooking pots in the kitchen. In Hochstrass we served on little wooden stools in the sunshine, picking chamomile blossoms to be used as buckets of tea for sick cows.

Soon Sister Elenara our “mistress” and the postulants who were also in her charge took a train into “lower Austria” the low mountains and great fresh air. When we got to St. Polten, a horse wagon picked us up. This was just great, we were not only going far but also back into time.

The three of us were given a room that overlooked the chapel wing and the beautiful mountains. Each night we slept with the large window opened to air as fresh as my lungs had ever breathed. One night we discovered the stars and went outside on a hill to lie in the grass and see creation as its Lord had intended. The milky way was a blanket that seemed to come down and cover us.

Hochstrass, the Convent of our Sorrowful Mother, was an agricultural school for girls and a working farm. We went across the dirt road to the cheese house where Sister Elenara slept with the postulants and there we had our daily spiritual readings. This always ended with huge slices of the bread baked on site with the fresh cottage cheese and huge glasses of real buttermilk. Sister Amabilis confessed that she expected me to be dark and from South Brazil, for there had not been anyone from North America in living memory. Sister Mathea was from Breitenfurt, and with Sister Helena that was our group. Amabilis had a charming Viennese accent and undertook to help me pronounce the vow formula in German.

Each day we left the cheese house and went into the fields to pick our blossoms. There we met Sister Karola who told us about the farm. Later she rewarded us with fresh garlic for our cottage cheese bread. It was delicious but I was not familiar with the consquences. We had confessions once and I wonder about the priest… I know he came back because he treasured his weekly reward of Hochstrass bread. One time she asked us to help carry huge baskets of cherries. She had a wonderful solution if we found the basket too heavy. “Sit down and eat a few.”

At another time she introduced us to the donuts and hard apple cider which was the customary snack for field workers. She took us to a barn where there were barrels from “1947, 48, 49 etc.” and we had to sample each one. Strange, but prayers that evening provoked a lot of giggles so that Sister Elenara whispered that we should finish the Office prayers outside.

One day they awakened us even earlier… maybe four or even before. A Sister had had a heart attack and we would be saying office for her that morning. Sister was laid out in one of the rooms, lovingly prepared at home by her sisters. The house carpenter made a simple casket that was lined with paper doily made for the purpose. The funeral was held on a beautiful summer day. The school students were in their Sunday uniform, the Sisters in their best habit all forming a procession behind the beautifully decorated with wreaths of white flowers and evergreens oxcart. The oxen were used because it was sister’s duty to care for them. Slowly, prayerfully, we walked up the narrow road to the Sisters’ cemetery high on a hill where she was laid to rest with her community. There followed a repast that included real coffee and homemade cake. I forgot Sister’s name, but not the circumstances and I felt very close to Mother Franziska who had still planned this place before she died.

There was also an exhibition of the students’ work and I saw some of the finest handicrafts of another time. Each girl made for herself an authentic “dirndle” with the patented school patterns. She also had a complete layette of children’s clothes and household linens to take into her future life.

The happy days came to an end as all things must, but the blessing they bring to our hearts can remain forever if we keep them in grateful prayer. Since Hochstrass I have not been afraid to go and live anywhere. I realized what my Uncle Karl told me, “You will find good people everywhere.” He was right and the greatest blessing of my life is the maybe hundreds of Daughters of Divine Charity I have come to meet from all over the world. How grateful I am to have been exposed to the living charism and to the graces of that summer in Hochstrass.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Holy Week Meditation









The Tale of the Eternal Wood



I pulled and pushed and it seemed that there was no way that I could budge the huge log. After moving it just a few inches I had to leave and rest but I was determined to come back and finish the job. It was a task I had set for myself and I would not give up. Each day I returned and pushed and pulled to move the heavy load.










I did not realize that someone whom I supposed to be the gardener was watching my daily efforts.



Finally, after watching me for many days he asked me why this seemed so important. "I cannot just leave this here," I said, "I can't let this be forgotten. These are all the many times I hurt people and couldn't explain and the many times they hurt me and wouldn't or couldn't tell me they were sorry. I can't let go. I suffered so much because of all these things... they cannot just be forgotten. If I don't hold on to them no one will ever know."


The one I thought was a gardener smiled and said, "Don't you know that I long ago carried all those things for you and for many others? I saw it all and felt your pain and your regret. I treasured your courage and bravery while others thought you were just superficial and a failure. You can leave this load and go on in joy and freedom because I remember it all and will store it for you until the time when all is clear and fair."



Thursday, April 7, 2011

FRANZISKA NOTES April 2011

It would be a grave mistake to judge Mother Franziska’s spirit and actions solely by contemporary insights, especially into current events or social justice issues. Each day the news brings stories of struggles for freedom and of serious violations of human rights in many places of the world. We read of real heroes putting their fortunes and very lives on the line for peace and justice. Is there any thing we can learn from a woman who lived over one hundred years ago? We know that her heart went out to poor servant girls, to retired and unemployed, sick servants, to orphans and to children of all levels of society who needed a Christian education. Her concern was always with the spiritual and moral good of those her sisters were serving. She did not have access to the varied opinions and different types of struggles that we know of today. She also was not exposed to the genocides of our own century. Can she teach us anything? Where does true justice come from? The teaching of recent popes tells us that there can be no justice without peace. True peace is a gift of God. It can be gained only by prayer. Intimacy with God in prayer was the source of Mother Franziska’s untireing good work for the poor, It was in communication with the heart of Jesus that she learned how to respond to the social needs that presented themselves to her one needy person at a time. It is in this same communion with God, much time spent with Sacred Scripture and meditation on the teachings of Jesus that we develop the compassionate heart that is like our Heavenly Father’s. It is here that we learn the right way, the way of peace to face the social issues of our time. This peace begins very near, at home, and only then can we with a right heart confront the larger issues of our world. Mother Franziska would have known what to do today as she did in her own time.