Thursday, October 12, 2006
Sister St. Aloysius likes to sew. You'd never know it from her red faced frustration when she actually does sew. But once someone knows you can sew LOOK OUT. Everybody and their dog Rollo will be knocking on your windows. They knock on your windows because they know that way you'll see the longing in their eyes. Bugs Bunny referred to that look as 'the sorrowful eye routine'. They'll be standing there with their kid's pants in hand or some fabric they got on sale hoping that maybe you could make some kitchen curtains ....for them...
Sister St. Aloysius says it relaxes her, but she refuses to go to the fabric store during the entire month of October because it's "amatuer month." I think she could be getting some souls out of Purgatory, but I can't judge. I imagine all the sewing she gets stuck with does enough good for them. Of course when your soul's on fire--in a bad way-- should we ever be using the word 'enough'?
Now the poor thing has the double whammy of people who have asked her help on their children's Halloween costumes.
Let's stop here for a moment and mention that the Catholic church doesn't get all silly about Halloween. We're as afraid of the devil as the next denomination, but people in masks don't scare us. The very word Halloween is derived from the eve (Hallow, Holy, e'een, evening, Holy eve) of all Saints Day, a holy day of obligation. (That means that you and your children, if you're not all throwing up candy, need to get to Mass. If you don't, when you're all in hell, you'll all look like that costume you wouldn't let your child buy.)
But we have always stressed the idea of finding ways to make the holiday holy. One bright idea has been to encourage the children to dress as their favorite saint.
And I just have to be honest and say, enough already.
It would be one thing if the child dressed up as St. Hubert, with a bishop's outfit and hat and had a stuffed deer with him or a mad dog or a bloodhound (St. Hubert invented the bloodhound), and then wrote a report on St. Hubert and sat with other children discussing why they picked the saint ("he has a bow and arrow" is not a good answer). Perhaps we could send little St. Hubert out and see if he can talk any heathens into melting down their idols.
But that's not what's going to happen. What's going to happen is that the child, dressed as St. Hubert, is going to find the largest bag he can lay his hands on. Smart children know about the pillow case. Then little St. Hubert is going to walk door to door and scream, "Trick or Treeeeeat!" and thrust out the giant bag. At least little St. Hubert knows enough to say thank you. Jesus will not be mentioned.
I suppose we could suck all the fun out of this fall festival by having little St. Rose of Lima with her pretend crown of thorns covered in plastic roses ask for money for the poor, or we could make little St. Sebastian, proud of how he got it to look like arrows are sticking out of him, give all his candy to the poor children.
Even I am not THAT big of a wet blanket.
I say, give the child your broom and a pointy hat and let her have fun gathering and eating candy. Tomorrow she'll be at Mass. For a child, that is enough.
And that way, Sister St. Aloysius only has to buy one pattern. We're on a budget.