April Fourteenth

OF all sins, perhaps the greatest is to ignore injustice. Forgive me if I have stepped back and kept quiet when I should have marched forward and shouted.
Let me make an effort to speak for those with no voice, make a fist for those with no strength, and be brave for those with no courage.

-- by the blog author

February Fifth

IN THE very earliest time, when both people and animals lived on earth, a person could become an animal if he wanted to and an animal could become a human being.
Sometimes, they were people and sometimes animals and there was no difference. All spoke the same language. That was the time when words were like magic.
The human mind had mysterious powers. A word spoken by chance might have strange consequences. It would suddenly come alive and what people wanted to happen could happen -- all you had to do was say it. Nobody can explain this. That's the way it was.

-- AFTER NALUNGIAQ (ESKIMO) "Magic Words", photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt from Life magazine archives

December The Thirty-First

MOST gracious God, who hast been infinitely merciful to us, not only in the year past, but through all the years of our life, be pleased to accept our most unfeigned thanks for Thine innumerable blessings to us; graciously pardoning the manifold sins and infirmities of our life past, and bountifully bestowing upon us all those graces and virtues which may render us acceptable to Thee. And, every year which Thou shalt be pleased to add to our lives, add also, we humbly implore Thee, more strength to our faith, more ardor to our love, and a greater perfection to our obedience; and grant that, in a humble sincerity and constant perseverance, we may serve Thee most faithfully the remainder of our lives, for Jesus Christ's sake - Amen.

-- CHARLES HOW (1661-1745) Photo of a "hungry New Yorker," by Alfred Eisenstaedt, from Life magazine archives

December The Thirtieth

HEAVENLY and eternal Father, Source of all being, from whom I spring, unto whom I shall return, -- Thine I shall ever be. Thou wilt call me unto Thyself when my hour comes. Blessed shall I then be if I can say, "I have fought a good fight." I fear not death, O Father of life; for death is not eternal sleep; it is the transition to a new life, a moment of glorious transformation, an ascension towards Thee.
How could that be an evil that cometh from Thy hand, when Thou art the All-good! Lord of life and death, I am in Thy hand; do unto me as Thou deemest fit; for what Thou dost is well done.
When Thou didst call me from nothing into life, Thou didst will my happiness; when Thou callest me away from life, will my happiness be less Thy care?
No, no, Thou art love, and whosoever dwells in love dwells in Thee, O Lord, and Thou in him - Amen.

-- HEINRICH ZSCHOEKKE (1771-1848)
John Barnett, a Dust Bowl farmer, and his family in Oklahoma in 1942. Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt from Life magazine archives.

December The Eleventh

O ALMIGHTY God, from whom every good prayer cometh; and who pourest out on all who desire it the spirit of grace and supplication; deliver us, when we draw nigh to Thee, from coldness of heart and wanderings of mind, that with steadfast thoughts and kindled affections we may worship Thee in spirit and in truth; through Jesus Christ our Lord - Amen.

-- WILLIAM BRIGHT
"Grace the dummy" mannequin on display in Saks FifthAvenue's store window. New York, NY, US. Taken in 1937 by photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt.

November The Seventeenth

TO AUTUMN

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, --
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river swallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

-- JOHN KEATS
Photo taken in 1943 by Alfred Eisenstaedt, Life magazine archives

October The Fifth

O ETERNAL God, who hast created me to do the work of God after the manner of men, and to serve Thee in this generation, and according to my capacities; give me Thy grace that I may be a prudent spender of my time, so as I may best prevent or resist all temptation, and be profitable to the Christian commonwealth; and, by discharging all my duty, may glorify Thy name. Take from me all slothfulness, and give me a diligent and an active spirit, and wisdom to choose my employment; that I may do works proportionable to my person, and to the dignity of a Christian, and may fill up all the spaces of my time with actions of religion and charity; improving my talent entrusted to me by Thee, my Lord, that I may enter into the joy of the Lord, to partake of Thy eternal felicities, even for Thy mercy's sake - Amen.

-- JEREMY TAYLOR (1613-1667)
Blond model in long dress with bandana motif standing near workman. Taken in 1938 by photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt. Life magazine image.

September The Twenty-Eighth

O LORD, of Thy tender love, prepare Thou Thyself a place for Thyself in my heart. Empty my heart of every feeling, thought, emotion, desire, purpose, anxiety, hope, fear, which may interfere with Thy love. Open my whole heart to receive Thee; let nothing shut Thee out, nothing be shut to Thee. Thou alone canst fit my heart for Thyself; cleanse it wholly by Thy Spirit, that it may wholly love Thee, be wholly filled with Thee, wholly penetrated, enlightened, warmed, by Thee, that Thou mayest dwell in it forever, and it may love Thee with Thine own love in it everlastingly - Amen.

-- E.B. PUSEY
Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt, taken in 1938 on road between Atlanta and Charlotte, N.C.

September The Nineteenth

HEAVENLY Master, who dost knock at the door of every heart, waiting to enter with Thy spirit of forgiveness, strengthen us, we pray Thee, to remove every rankling feeling of injury, every trace of resentment, and with whole hearts to forgive as we would be forgiven. And for Thy loving kindness and tender mercy toward us we will give Thee thanks forever - Amen.

August The Tenth

O SOVEREIGN and Almighty Lord, bless all Thy people, and all Thy flock. Give Thy peace, Thy help, Thy love unto us Thy servants, the sheep of Thy fold, that we may be united in the bond of peace and love, one body the bond of peace and love, one body and one spirit, in one hope of our calling, in Thy divine and boundless love - Amen.

-- LITURGY OF ST. MARK (175-254?)

Flock of sheep under an olive tree in Italy. Life magazine archive photo, taken in 1947 by photographer Alfred Eisenstaedt.

July The Tenth

NOW, Talking God,
With your feet I walk
I walk with your limbs
I carry forth your body
For me your mind thinks
Your voice speaks for me
Beauty is before me
And beauty is behind me
Above and below hovers the beautiful
I am surrounded by it
I am immersed in it
In my youth I am aware of it
And in old age I shall walk quietly
The beautiful trail.

--Native American Prayer

June The Second

NEITHER in life nor in death is there aught to fear,
For Love indwells and sustains the Whole.

In life there is naught to fear,
For step by step, like little children,
We are led by him who holdeth our hands,
By him who hath crowned our lives, day by day,
With his wonders of beauty and love and delight.

In death there is nought to fear,
For there, also, love is supreme,
There also God's hand shall guide us, as little children.

Death is nought but the passage at last
From this our darkness and gloom to yonder splendor of light,
From this our half-knowledge, half-friendship, half-goodness,
To that perfection:
From this our death
To that fullness and freedom of life - Amen.

- JOHN S. HOYLAND
The Parisians: Little girls in front row of audience of children sitting very still, with rapt expressions, watching puppet show. Paris, France, May 28, 1963. Photographer, Alfred Eisenstaedt.