"And the moon under her feet"

One giant leap for mankind.

The Virgin (William Wordsworth)

Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied;
Woman! above all women glorified,
Our tainted nature's solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast;
Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in Thee
Of mother's love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!

Cultural Sensitivity

HT to Dianonymous for sending me this funny-but-not-really piece about Hillary Clinton trying to be Catholic in Mexico.

During her recent visit to Mexico, U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton made an unexpected stop at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe and left a bouquet of white flowers “on behalf of the American people,” after asking who painted the famous image.

The image of Our Lady of Guadalupe was miraculously imprinted by Mary on the tilma, or cloak, of St. Juan Diego in 1531. The image has numerous unexplainable phenomena, such as the appearance on Mary’s eyes of those present in the room when the tilma was opened and the image’s lack of decay.

Mrs. Clinton was received on Thursday at 8:15 a.m. by the rector of the Basilica, Msgr. Diego Monroy.

Msgr. Monroy took Mrs. Clinton to the famous image of Our Lady of Guadalupe, which had been previously lowered from its usual altar for the occasion.

After observing it for a while, Mrs. Clinton asked “who painted it?” to which Msgr. Monroy responded “God!”

I bet that was at least a semi-awkward moment. Maybe the Monsignor could have tried to make it less awkward by pointing out that the Holy Virgin is sort of God's Secretary of State. Or maybe not.

I suppose it would be a good thing if you were making a diplomatic visit to another country to sort of know the stories, customs and traditions of that land whether you believed in them or not. Especially if you are going for butt shark points as the big girl obviously was by giving flowers to Our Lady. Seeing that her statement would be an intentional insult had she known the story, we can only pronounce a verdict of abject ignorance.

This evening [Mar 27, day after "honoring" the Virgin] Secretary of State Hillary Clinton is set to receive the highest award given by Planned Parenthood Federation of America -- the Margaret Sanger Award, named for the organization's founder, a noted eugenicist. The award will be presented at a gala event in Houston, Texas.

Maybe dead flowers would be more appropriate for this occasion? We could have a human artist do an impression of Margaret Sanger as "Queen of the Underground".

Happy Birthday, Blessed Mother!

The party started with 8:30 Mass followed by our regular weekly Novena to the Mother of Perpetual Help, then continued with breakfast. Bacon, eggs and pancakes with Nutella. And big coffees for the big folks.

Then the two older kids and I played what could be best described as an extended harmonica jam session. Around the same time, coincidentally I believe, mama left to go shopping. (Hey -- didn't she just go shopping a few days ago?)

Later on we'll make a cake with strawberries, the kids' favorite. Strawberries are a symbol for the Virgin Mother because they are simultaneously "in fruit and in flower". So there you go.

Paties rock, and my kids know how to party. If I were a poet like Wordsworth, I'd write something llike this:

MOTHER! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied;
Woman! above all women glorified,
Our tainted nature's solitary boast;
Purer than foam on central ocean tost;
Brighter than eastern skies at daybreak strewn
With fancied roses, than the unblemished moon
Before her wane begins on heaven's blue coast;
Thy Image falls to earth. Yet some, I ween,
Not unforgiven the suppliant knee might bend,
As to a visible Power, in which did blend
All that was mixed and reconciled in Thee
Of mother's love with maiden purity,
Of high with low, celestial with terrene!

But I'm not a poet, and I know it, so let's party. But go easy with the Nutella -- it's supposedly a mild laxative.