If You Have Daughters, Keep Your Hair Short

Teresa gave me antennae (notice my hair, not Jojo being silly)

Well, that settles it. I definitely need a haircut.

When you live in a house full of girls, it's best to keep your hair short. If there's any hair available at all, girls start fiddling around with it.

So Teresa was standing behind my chair and she started to twirl the salt-and-pepper locks on the sides of my head. With the help of a couple of ribbons, I suddenly had horns. Or maybe antennae.

What is it about girls and hair?

I'm a good sport. "Go ahead and take a picture," I said. So Teresa grabbed the phone, and Jojo, of course, said she wanted to be in the picture too.

Today was the Janaro Family Feast Day. Legend has it that the Great Ancestor of our very own Janaro Clan was none other than the original St. Januarius himself (a.k.a. San Gennaro), the fourth century bishop and martyr (and I should know the legend of this ancestry better than anyone, because I made it up). So we celebrated by having spaghetti (which is what we have for dinner every Friday night). After having my hair twiddled, I felt like I needed more spaghetti but we pretty well cleaned out the pot.

Wow, food just disappears around here. Oh well, HAPPY FEAST DAY!

Mary Wants to Take You By the Hand

My daughters don't often read this blog, unless it's a funny family story or something about the cat. But I hope they will read this entry because it is addressed especially to them. Dear Agnese and Lucia (and Teresa and Josefina, when you're old enough to understand), I am putting into words here a small piece of what I hope you are learning from our home and from the way we live, from the witness of others in our community, from the life of the Church, and from the Holy Spirit who speaks in the depths of your hearts.

It's just a few small words, but as I watch you grow into young women I have an urgent desire for you to know more intimately the beautiful tenderness of The Woman who will lead you to discover your dignity and your tremendous value as women human persons: the courage, tenacity, and solicitude of your femininity, and the greatness of your vocation.

I write this as a blog post because I would also like to say this to every young woman, and to every woman of every age who longs to know why God made her. Your identity is very precious to the heart of the Mother of our Lord.

Dear Daughters,

Jesus wants you to have a very special woman with you on your journey to eternal life, a woman to be your companion, your most attentive and most faithful friend. Isn't that GREAT??? It is His mother, Mary. She will help you to grow to become a great woman, to become the particular feminine human person that God wills you to be in His wisdom and love.

Mary is a gift of God's love. The outpouring of His goodness gives her as a Mother to each of us. She is mother of the new life we receive in her Son Jesus, our life as children of God. This life involves her particular tenderness and closeness to each one of us. She is your mother and your intimate friend.

Talk to Mary. Tell her your fears, your troubles, your questions, your hopes about life. Just talk to her, pour your heart out to her. Don't be surprised if she responds, in her own way. Mary will accept you as you are, and help you step by step.

A friendship with Mary will give you two great things that you seek: She will help clear all the difficulties on your path to eternal life with Jesus. Mary is very practical; she understands your challenges, your struggles, your sensibility, your frustrations in all their details. Mary will help you; she will shape your way to Jesus. She will bring Jesus to your heart. That's what she does. She started doing it when she said "yes" to the angel, which allowed Jesus to come into the world through her womb. She gave Jesus to the world. She will give you Jesus, and deepen your relationship with Him. Talk to her in your heart as a person you know you can trust completely. The Church guarantees that this is true; the Church has promised down through the centuries: Mary will bring you to Jesus.

That's the first thing. The second thing is also very important to you. Mary will teach you what it means to be a woman. Mary knows better than anyone that we live in a time when women are becoming conscious of their full dignity as human persons. Mary understands the aspirations of women's hearts today, especially young women. She will teach you to become the mature, dynamic, self-possessed and self-giving, fostering and nurturing, constructive and creative woman that you long to be. She will teach you.

Mary wants to take you by the hand and mentor you, help form you into the woman God is calling you to be: free, conscious of your human dignity, responsive to God and willing to give the unique gift that is your self, with confidence and love.

Trust Mary, confide in her, and let her know you and hold you in her heart.

Josefinology

We're hanging around the table after breakfast, just her and me.

Josefina: "Jesus is powerful!"

Me: "Yes indeed."

Her: "He's like...a wizard!"

Thanks a lot, Gandalf. My little girl thinks Jesus is a wizard. At first that sounds creepy, but of course it has nothing to do with the occult. As far as the imagination is concerned, Middle Earth and Narnia pretty much rule around this house.

She's talking about a "Tolkien wizard" which is a very particular kind of entity.

All our other kids have read the books, and thanks to Peter Jackson, Gandalf is everywhere, on screen, but also on calendars and coloring books and coffee mugs and cereal boxes.

Tolkien's "wizards" play an open role in his imaginative world and its cosmic laws. Their "powers" are part of their "office" within the overall (and mysteriously providential) government of middle earth and its unfolding "history;" they belong to the ordinary structure of Tolkien's imaginary universe. And there's much more that I could say about this, but lets go back to the conversation.

So is Jesus "like" Gandalf? That's a pretty smart question, actually. Imagination and intelligence are working together.

Me: "No, its not the same, honey. The wizards in the story have some powers, but Jesus is God. Jesus can do anything, because He is God. The wizards can't create things, but Jesus is the Creator of everything."

Her: "So Jesus can't die!"

Me: [Hmmmmm....] "Well, God can't die. But God became a man, and He died for us. He died for each one of us, because He loves us; He died and He rose from the dead, so that we could live with Him forever in heaven. Remember there is only one God, but He is three Persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, like when you make the sign of the cross, three Persons, one God. Jesus is God the Son, and He took our human nature to be with us. Jesus is God and man."

Yes, I really said something like that. Children are not dumb. We have to tell them who Jesus is, because they're already trying to work it out. Experience, imagination, and understanding need to be integrated in everyone's life. It starts in childhood, and the Montessori Catechesis of the Good Shepherd follows an integrated method from the beginning. We started Josefina in CGS when she was not yet 3 years old.

Not long after that, she started asking questions. Once she asked me, "How does Jesus come into you and take your soul outside of your body when you die?" Gosh. I don't remember what I said then. She was 4 years old, maybe.

Sometimes when we finish grace, Josefina keeps her head down and her hands folded. She wants to say some special prayers (and she won't tell anybody what they are). The Lord must love these prayers. Another thing about the Montessori Catechesis: the children learn to pray. They learn the beauty of silence.

But let me return to this conversation. I concluded by saying...

Me: "These are mysteries we believe. We can't understand them."

Her: "Jesus is more powerful than a lion!"

Me: *puzzled* "aaah...yes!"

And we moved on to other things. It was a few minutes before I realized <facepalm> that she was talking about Aslan!

Hair, Hair, Everywhere

How do you even open this thing?

Slowly but surely, this is becoming a house full of women.

I am thinking this as I watch various heads of hair being combed and brushed, tied and untied, twirled and braided and unbraided. Hair, hair, hair, hair, long glorious rivers of hair. Mommy combs Lucia's hair while unweaving a tangle here and there (a process which Lucia seems to think is some form of torture). Teresa brushes it to one side, then swings it back, fiddles with it, brushes it again.

Josefina has gone to sleep. But earlier, she was perched above Mommy, behind her in the chair, "fixing" Mommy's hair. Josefina can still "perch" and wiggle her way into places already occupied by grown ups. The others are too big for that.

We're not going anywhere right now. Just sitting around the living room on a January evening.

Feminine mysteries. The bunching and braiding. The pins and clips that have to match with an outfit (huh?). Fuzzy hair bands all over the house (in various colors). Its destined to increase more and more as they grow (even though we're determined keep the bling level under control). I'm convinced that some of these hair gizmos defy the laws of physics.

How does that clip open? How does it stay shut?

We are a low frills family. Still, I think that each girl has her own bag just for hair stuff. (And the women reading this are saying, "of course, what's so complicated about all this?" But the men understand my perplexity.)

When John Paul's hair gets more than an inch long, all he wants is a haircut!

If I Were an Onion, I Would Want You To Eat Me

We had this delicious stew for dinner with chicken and beans and spices and onions. I was eating mine up and enjoying it (of course, I'd hardly taken a spoonful and John Paul was already eyeing the pot and saying, "Is anybody gonna want more?").

One of the main reasons why fathers are given authority in the household is because otherwise they would starve to death.

Then there's little tweety-bird on the other side of the table. Josefina is carefully removing each onion slice and placing it (neatly) on the side of her dish.

"What's wrong with the onions?" I asked.

"I don't like the onions."

"Ohhh," I replied. "You know what? If I were an onion, I would be really sad if Josefina refused to eat me."

"Why?"

"Because I would be so lonely on the side of the dish. And I'd be so sorry not to be eaten by Josefina."

So she thought for a moment, and said, "Would you want me to eat you more than anyone else?"

Oh no. How did I let myself get into this position? When you have several daughters, you have to be careful not to play favorites. I always tell them that I love each of them in the special way that only she can be loved.

That sounds like a political answer, but its true. Why does every woman think she's special? Because she is special. Its not a competition. Right from the beginning, every girl should grow up with the awareness that she is a gift. Fathers should foster this awareness.

This can't be done without attention. And real attention is difficult. It is an interior thing. It is the fruit not so much of a self-conscious effort, as it is a kind of sacrifice, a self-effacement that makes space for each person to be the object of a special appreciation and gratitude. Of course, sons also need attention, but with different accents (that's a topic for another time). Every child needs this from his or her parents.

I've never been very good at self-effacement. And its not a matter of being timid or passive. Its a matter of humility. Humility is the habit of wonder and gratitude in front of everything. Humility sees everything coming from the hand of God. It is a grace for which we must pray.

Getting back to the story: If I were an onion, would I want Josefina, more than anyone else, to eat me? I deserved this question. I set myself up for it. What do I say?

"Well," I said, "If I were your onion, I would want you to eat me."

Hahaha. Back to the dinner. Josefina continued to add to the arrangement on the side of her dish.

Finally I said, "Bring those onions over here. I'll eat them!"