Recommendation to One’s Guardian Angel
                                      by: St. Charles Borromeo

            My good Angel, I know not when or how I shall die. It is possible that I may be carried off suddenly, and that before my last sigh I may be deprived of all intelligence. Yet how many things I would wish to say to God on the threshold of eternity. In the full freedom of my will today, I come to charge you to speak for me all that fearful moment. You will say to Him then, O my good Angel:

            That I wish to die in the Roman Catholic Apostolic Church, in which all the saints since Jesus Christ have died, and out of which there is no salvation.

            That I ask the grace of sharing in the infinite merits of my Redeemer, and that I desire to die in pressing to my lips the cross that was bathed in His blood.

            That I detest my sins because they have displeased Him, and that I pardon through love of Him all my enemies as I wish myself to be pardoned.

That I die willingly because He orders it, and that I throw myself with confidence into His adorable heart awaiting all of His mercy.

That in my inexpressible desire to go to heaven, I am disposed to suffer everything it may please His sovereign Justice to inflict upon me.

That I love Him before all things, above all things, and for His own sake; and that I wish and hope to love Him with the Elect, his Angels, and the Blessed Mother during all Eternity.                                                                                                                                                                   Amen.

         A blessed feast of St. Anne to one and all!

St. Anne has a special place in our family.  She is one of this mother's patron saints and with all the seamstresses in this house her help is called for almost daily!  My youngest sister Annie also has St. Anne's Day as her wedding anniversary. So to honor our heavenly patron we will be sharing a few posts before her feast!

                      ST. ANNE'S DAY: JULY 26TH
St. Anne was for long the patroness of joiners and cabinet makers, and for the emblem of their guild they took a figure of St. Anne instructing her daughter.  A curious choice, it seems at first glance.
But they entwined round the two figures this inscription: "sic fingit tabernaculum Deo," thus she frames a tabernacle for God. These wood workers realized the parallel between themselves, the  tabernacles they made, the Blessed Sacrament that was housed in  them and St. Anne, our Lady and the Child she bore.

Not only joiners took Anne as their patron; so did all those  engaged in spinning, weaving, embroidery, sewing and any sort of  household arts and skills. She seems indeed to have been the patron of the housewife.

It was in the East that the mother of our Lady was first honored.  The Greek church held her in tremendous reverence and sang her  praises in words that echo the Akathist hymn, that great song of praise written in her daughter's honor.

"Hail, spiritual bird, announcing the spring time of grace! Hail, sheep, mother of the ewe lamb, who by a word conceived the Word, the Lamb that taketh away the sins of the world!
Hail, blessed earth, whence sprang the branch that bore the divine Fruit!

O Anne, most blessed in God, grandmother of Christ our Lord, who didst give to the world a shining lamp, the mother of God; together with her intercede that great may be the mercy granted to our souls.

Let us cry to holy Anne with cymbals and psaltery. She brought forth the mountain of God and was borne up to the spiritual mountains, the tabernacles of Paradise."

In England St. Anne's feast was authorized by Pope Urban IV in 1381. Thus she was honored here more than two hundred years before her day was celebrated as a feast of the universal Church. There is then nothing strange in suggesting that it be given more consideration now.  St. Anne's day is a homely feast. After all, she is the grandmother of Christ, odd though this may sound in one's ears. If mid-Lent Sunday is the feast of mothers, is there any reason why this should not be the day when the grandparents are made the center of everything? Gifts can be sent them, letters written, visits paid. St. Anne has received tremendous honor at the shrines that have been set up to her. The one set up in Brittany, St. Anne d'Auray, discovered to Yves Nicolazic by herself in 1624, is one of the greatest places of Christian pilgrimage. Here there is nothing to compete with that. There are a number of churches dedicated to her, and that is all. But to celebrate her feast day in such a practical way as that of centering it round the grandparents of a family is surely something that would appeal to one whom popular fancy has always linked up with home life.
                                                                                                      Source: A Candle is Lighted, 1945

YES, Heaven is the prize
My soul shall strive to gain :
One glimpse of Paradise
Repays a life of pain.
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize!
My soul, oh ! think of this :
All earthly goods despise
For such a crown of bliss.
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize !
When sorrows press around,
Look up beyond the skies,
Where hope and strength are found,
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize !
Oh ! 'tis not hard to gain.
He surely wins who tries ;
For hope can conquer pain.
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize !
The strife will soon be past;
Faint not, but raise your eyes,
And struggle to the last.

Yes, Heaven is the prize !
Faith shows the crown to gain ;
Hope lights the way, and dies;
But Love will always reign.
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize !
Too much cannot be given;
 And he alone is wise
Who gives up all for Heaven.
 
Yes, Heaven is the prize !
Death opens wide the door.
And then the spirit flies
To God for evermore.
'Tis Heaven, tis Heaven, Heaven is the prize!
Source:  Hymns and Songs for Catholic Children, 1870

TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO

TWO thousand years, two thousand years,
Our bark o'er billowy seas
Has onward kept her steady course.
Through hurricane and breeze.
 Her Captain was the Risen One
She braved the stormy foe :
And still He guides who guided her
Two thousand years ago !
 
When first our gallant ship was launched,
Although our hands were few,
              Yet dauntless was each bosom found,                                                                                                                         And every heart was true ;                                                                                              And still though in her mighty hull
                                                       Unnumbered bosoms glow,
                                                       Her crew is faithful as it was
                                                         Two thousand years ago !

                                                    True, some had left this noble craft,
                                                       To sail the seas alone,
                                                    And made them, in their hour of pride,
                                                       A vessel of their own ;
                                                    But, when portentous clouds did rise,
                                                     Tempestuous storms did blow,
                                                     They re-entered that old vessel built
                                                      Two thousand years ago !

                                                     For onward rides our gallant bark
                                                                                   With all Her canvas set,                               
                                                   In some few nations still unknown
                                                   To plant her standards yet:
                                                    Her flag shall float where'er a breath
                                                   From human life shall glow,
                                                   And millions bless the bark that sailed
                                                    Two thousand years ago.

                                                True to that guiding star which led
                                                    To Israel's cradled hope,
                                                Her steady needle pointeth yet
                                               To Calvary's bloody top !
                                                Yes ! there she floats, that good old ship,
                                                  From mast to keel below
                                               Sea-worthy still, as erst she was
                                                 Two thousand years ago.

                                                Not unto us—not unto us
                                                 Be praise or glory given,
                                            But unto Him who watch and ward
                                                Hath kept for her in heaven,
                                                Who quelled the whirlwind in its wrath,
                                                 Bade tempests cease to blow !
                                                  The Lord, who launched our vessel forth
                                                  Two thousand years ago.

                                                  Then onward speed thee, brave old bark.
                                                     Speed onward in thy pride,
                                                      O'er sunny seas and billows dark.
                                                      The Holy One thy guide ;
                                                    And sacred be each plank and spar,
                                                     Unchanged by friend or foe,
                                                       Just as she left Jerusalem
                                                       Two thousand years ago !

                                                      Source: Hymns and Songs for Catholic Children, 1870

     IN studying the history of God's most favoured servants, we find them divided into two classes; those who, by God's grace, have been preserved in wonderful purity of heart and life, and those who by that same divine grace, are brought from spiritual darkness to light, from sin to sanctity.
     Among these last we find Mary Magdalen, the once notorious sinner, who became the most illustrious of all holy women, the Virgin Mother alone excepted.
     Her story begins upon the day when Christ sat at meat in the house of the Pharisee, and Magdalen hearing that he was there, wentThough a sinner, she knows that Jesus is God, and she has resolved to approach Him. Silently she enters, and falling down before the gentle Saviour, began to wash those sacred feet with her tears and to wipe them with her long hair. An alabaster vase is in her hand full of costly ointment, and opening it she anoints the Lord, not indeed His head—according to the custom of the East—but kneeling, she pours the perfumed oil upon the feet already bathed with tears of penitence and love. She has not spoken, she has not told out the burden of her sin and shame, for Jesus knows it all, and knows too her deep penitence and love, and so in that brief moment she is forgiven, and the sinner is transformed into the saint.
     The Pharisee is displeased with the scene which has taken place, and Christ reading his heart says, "Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee," and thereupon follows the passage which has encouraged many a penitent sinner to Him. since that day, whorein Jesus declares that "Many sins are forgiven her because she hath loved much."
     It was by Mary Magdalen's conversion that Our Lord seems to have become a friend and a guest in the house of Lazarus and Martha; so loving and so tender a friend that He wept for the grief of these sisters when their brother died, wept tears of human sympathy which Scripture has recorded that we may understand something of what it is to possess the friendship of Jesus. We see Christ a guest in the home of Bethany, Martha busy in serving, Mary sitting at His feet listening to the words which fell from His lips. Martha complained and said,
    "Lord, hast thou no care that my sister hath left me alone to serve ? speak to her therefore that she help me."
     Both sisters loved Our Lord, though the expression of that love was different; the active service was accepted and prized, yet Jesus declares that "Mary hath chosen the better part," the silent waiting at His feet.
     Time passed, and the hour drew nigh when the Son of man should sacrifice His life upon the Cross, and once more He comes to Bethany, the place where Lazarus had been raised from the dead.  A supper was prepared for Christ there in the house of Simon the leper, and Martha served, while Lazarus was of those who sat at the table with the Master.
     Again Mary Magdalen enters with an alabaster vase, as once before she had come in penitence and shame; but now she is the friend of Jesus, she may dare to pour the ointment upon the Sacred Head; then— with perhaps a sudden remembrance of her former guilt—she casts herself at Christ's feet, anointing them with what remains, and "wiping them with the hair of her head." The disciples are displeased at this homage; it is a waste they think, for the costly spikenard might have been well sold and its price given to the poor. But Jesus reproved them. He knew why Magdalen had done this, He could read all the love and longing of her heart, and He answers,
     "She hath done what she could," and adds that, "Wheresoever this Gospel shall be preached in the whole world, that also which she hath done shall be told for a memorial of her."
     The terrible agony was over, the cruel scourging had been endured, the crown of thorns had been wreathed around the head of Jesus the man of sorrows. He had borne the burden of His heavy Cross up the steep mountain side, and now He hangs there bleeding and dying.
Are His friends near, His disciples pressing close, they whom His touch had healed of their diseases, whose dead He had given back to them ? Ah, no! Only a few loving, faithful women with the Apostle John—Mary the stainless mother, the Immaculate Virgin, by the side of penitent, loving Magdalen at the foot of the Cross. The three hours of agony went by, the sacrifice was accomplished, and the braised, nail-pierced body had been wound in linen cloths and embalmed with fragrant aromatic spices, after the custom of the Jews, and now it was lying in the garden sepulchre until the resurrection morning.
     We see Mary Magdalen hurrying there—so early that it is yet dark—-towatch and pray ; but the stone has been rolled away, the sepulchre is open, and in grief she runs to tell SS. Peter and John, " They have taken away the Lord out of the sepulchre and we know not where they have laid Him." Yes it was indeed true that He was not there; the disciples come and look for themselves, and then go away to their own homes.
     Only Mary Magdalen remains to weep by the empty tomb, to tell her grief to the white robed angels, and to one other who is not far off, and whom she thinks must be the gardener."They have taken away my Lord," she cries. Ah, well may she weep if she thinks that Jesus is lost to her, well may we weep if by our own unfaithfulness, our cold neglect, our sin, He seems lost to us!
     "Mary." No other voice could ever be like His, and turning, she sees Him whom she loves so much and calls by the dear name of "Master."
     Perhaps it was in her heart to press her lips again upon those pierced feet; but Jesus says: "Do not touch me." Is His love less than in past days, the days when she came to anoint Him with precious ointment, when she sat so near and listened to the words of Him "Who spake as never man spake?" No; it is because Jesus is no more what He had been; His body was transfigured now into a higher life, soon he would be at the right band of the Father, and Magdalen must wait till she may fall at His feet in heaven. There is no further mention of this penitent, loving woman in Holy Scripture; but traditionand early history give us the closing part of her life.
     Years had rolled on; S. Peter had been crucified at Rome, the Virgin Mother had gone to heaven after her patient waiting, and Lazarus, with his sisters, passed to the shores of France. Tradition tells that a boat containing the family of Bethany left the beautiful coast of Palestine, and by some unseen power was guided to Marseilles, where a little congregation of Christians soon gathered around those who could tell the story of Jesus of Nazareth as the story of a dear and well known friend. Of Magdalen there is but one remembrance at this port, in the altar bearing her name, which is in the vaults of the abbey of S. Victor. At Aix there was an oratory where it is said she had prayed in the company of S. Maximus, who had accompanied her pilgrimage; but it was in greater retirement that God had chosen the life of His servant to end.
     There was a lonely desert in that part, and acave in which the Saint should hold wondrous communications with Him she had loved so deeply, and the same impulse which had guided her once to the house of the Pharisee, led her to this retreat. For thirty years her life was one of mingled prayer and penance, many times in each day she was carried by unseen angels from her cave to the rock above it, where visions were granted her which the tongue may not tell, nor the pen describe.
     So the hour approached which Magdalen must long have desired, she knew she was about to pass from brief glimpses of untold glory to that which should be eternal, and she longed once more to receive the Blessed Sacrament of love. Not far removed was the oratory of S. Maximus, and when Mary Magdalen knew the hour had come, she was carried by angels to a spot where the holy Bishop had been divinely inspired to wait for her, and where he gave her the holy communion of the Lord's Body and Blood. Then he placed her remains in an alabaster monument and prepared a grave for himself close by.
     At the commencement of the eighth century the Saracens invaded Provence, and thus it was that in fear the monks of S. Cassian, who were dwelling in that part, concealed the crypt in which the relics of S. Mary Magdalen reposed, by a heap of sand and rubbish. They even removed her body from the alabaster tomb to another grave; but they placed two inscriptions in it which should show in some future day what it truly was.
     Centuries passed away; the precise spot where the dear Saint lay was forgotten, and strange rumours concerning the removal of her remains went about. At length God inspired the Prince of Salerno to make a pilgrimage for the purpose of discovering the sepulchre of Magdalen, so beloved of Christ, and in the December of 1279 a trench was opened in the old basilica of St. Cassian. Soon the workmen struck on the stone of a grave, and when the prince had it raised, a sweet fragrance was immediately perceived by all; then convinced that his search was rewarded, he caused the sepulchre to be sealed until the Bishops of Provence might be convoked.
     In the following spring a vast multitude stood near the tomb of Mary Magdalon when with all honour it was opened, and the eyes of ecclesiastics, of princes, of men, women, and little children, were permitted to see and venerate the bones which had bent in loving adoration at the feet of Jesus. Upon the forehead a small particle of flesh was observed to be transparent, and with one accord the assembly declared their belief that it was the spot once touched by the finger of the Saviour when He said to Magdalen: "Noli me tangere."
     Upon the ground where for thirteen hundred years these sacred relics had lain undisturbed, a church was erected by Charles II. of Sicily, but only completely finished by his successors two centuries later.
     Beautiful is the story of Mary Magdalen — the story of mingled penitence and love. Sinful, she had nothing to offer Jesus but her tears; pardoned, she had only her love to give Him. But what love it was! so deep, so strong, so abiding; a love which kept her ever following in the footsteps of Him Who had pardoned her so much, even when His path led to the cross and to the grave.
     We too have deeply sinned, but alas! our penitence is not that of Magdalen, we have not shed such tears as she did, we do not perhaps feel the same unwavering confidence in the forgiveness of Our Lord.
     Oh, pray for us, dear Saint, that we may feel a contrition such as thine, for the many sins of our lives; pray for us too, that rising pardoned from the feet of Christ we may never more turn back from loving and following Him.
                                                                                                  Source:  Stories of the Saints, 1878

THE GENEALOGY OF SAINT JOACHIM AND SAINT ANNE

HOLY SCRIPTURES pass over in profound silence alike the most holy life and illustrious names of Joachim and Anne, the illustrious parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God. Adoring with most profound respect the conduct of the Sovereign author of the sacred volumes, I think that the omission of the names and heroic deeds was to leave the history of such progenitors for those annals and that volume, where with most brilliant lights are inscribed the lives of the heroes who have most illustrated the world with his dignity, his ministry, and his example.

This providence of heaven is seen even in the Only-begotten of the Father, Jesus Christ, of whose life, for the long space of thirty years, we simply know that he vouchsafed to be obedient to his parents. Scarcely any notice have we of the words and actions of the Blessed Virgin, in the seventy-two years that she lived among mortals. Of Saint Joseph (whose life we must suppose filled with wonderful events in consequence of his sacred ministry) there is little that we know with positive certainty. And so we must confess that the whole life of the greatest personages of the Church is concealed in an abyss of modesty and silence.
Nevertheless the Catholic Church, enlightened by a constant tradition, holds for certain that Joachim and Anne were the real names of the parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Hence Saint Joachim as well as Saint Anne -were most noble, being descended in the tribe of Judea from the blood of David : because of Levi, the son of Melchi, a descendant of David by the branch of Nathan was born Panter, father of Bipanter whose son Saint Joachim was, according to the account of Saint John Damascenus. On the other hand, Nathan by his wife Mary had three daughters, the first of whom was called Mary like her mother, the second Sobe, and the third Anne, the glorious mother of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

The sacred doctors, relying, it is believed, on ancient traditions, affirm that Anne and Joachim led a most holy life, and have sufficient reason to affirm it, because the eternal wisdom and admirable providence of God having chosen them as progenitors of the Mother of the monarch of the universe, Jesus Christ, they could not but have been eminent in every virtue. The adorable Trinity, which had destined them to be parents of the queen of the universe, wished to try the firmness and constancy of their resignation, by afflicting them for the space of twenty years with an ignominious barrenness, which prevented their enjoying the fruit and blessing of their most chaste matrimony. But though the fecundity of nature was wanting, there was not wanting the proper spirit to recur humbly and fervently to the ancient mercies of heaven, whither they perpetually sent their sighs and prayers in order to obtain a child, whose birth might deliver them from the penalty and confusion of sterility, then considered among the Jews as a malediction and an infamy. The Almighty hearkened benignantly to their prayers, and on a certain occasion when Saint Joachim was praying on a hill of the desert, and Saint Anne under a laurel tree in her garden, with eyes lovingly raised to heaven they were consoled by a vehement inspiration which assured them that they should behold the fulfilment of their desires.  This favor happened on the eighth of the month of December, and on the eighth of the following September was born a daughter whom they called Anne giving her the name of her maternal grandmother. Had they done nothing but become parents* of the empress of the universe they would have exceeded all the inhabitants of the earth ; because when we say that the Mother of God was born of Joachim and Anne, we say all that the mind can comprehend.

Having then obtained a daughter who exceeded the greatness of their expectations and desires (A. M. 3985-6) they educated her in the bosom of virtue, and when she was three years old, they presented her to the Lord in the temple, sacrificing in that amiable and precious treasure their heart and the consolation of their age. Both Anne and Joachim knew
that that child was an excellent gift of God, and hence they freely restored her to the same Lord from whom they had received her, to be brought up with the other maidens in the temple. Never since the foundation of the world was a more agreeable or a more precious holocaust offered to the Almighty.

When the Virgin reached the age of fourteen, her parents, who, according to some writers, were still alive,  by divine inspiration betrothed her to Saint Joseph. Saint Joachim lived, according to the opinion of some writers, eighty years, and Saint Anne seventy-nine ; hence it is conjectured that they died after the birth of the Messias. What gives some probability to this opinion is the advanced age of these saints, and some ancient paintings which represent them alive after the birth of Jesus, the obscurity of history which gives no light to determine this, and the divine goodness which would not apparently deny them this consolation after twenty years of confusion and shameful sterility, and other reasons which we omit, not to fail in the brevity of a compendious description.

Nothing is known on this point, and it would be conjecture to state as certain what cannot be positively ascertained. We can only believe and advance that they were the parents of the Blessed Virgin, Mother of God : a felicity which would render probable the presence of Jesus, Mary and Joseph with all the heavenly court, at their passage to another life. Saint Joachim died on the ninth of March, according to the account of some historians, and Saint Anne on the twenty-sixth of July. It is nevertheless very difficult to state the year and all the circumstances of their death. The fact is, that the knowledge of these things is reserved for eternity.
Divine Providence disposed that the feast of the glorious Saint Anne should be celebrated in the Church many years before that of her illustrious consort, Saint Joachim. In the East and in the West Saints have composed most elegant homilies to extol her dignity and surpassing virtues. The faithful show their veneration by claiming to possess some of her most precious relics. France glories in possessing her sacred body, of which many cities in Germany boast of possessing portions. The nuptial ring which Saint Joachim gave Saint Anne is preserved at Rome in a church dedicated to the mother of our Lady. Her miracles, which are innumerable and worthy of eternal remembrance, have been described by Trithemius, and later still by the Bollandists.

Ancient historians tell us that the Emperor Justinian I, about the year 550, reared a magnificent and costly church in her honor at Constantinople. Finally, all that love and revere the Blessed Virgin Mary, have increased and promoted in every land devotion to her most holy mother. Our fore fathers showed their devotion by composing in honor of Saint Anne a simple office such as was used in that golden age.

The feast of Saint Joachim, which began in the West with but little solemnity under the pontificate of Julius I, has received greater dignity in these later times; for Pope Gregory XV, evincing a singular love and veneration for this glorious parent of Mary, ordered his feast to be celebrated as a double. The saint is entitled to our veneration, for, as Saint John Damascenus says, if we consider well the dignity of Saint Anne's spouse, that progenitor of Christ, the human heart cannot but be inflamed with intense desire of honoring him with signal marks of love and serving him with tenderness.

The body of this most happy saint is said to be preserved at Venice. If this is well founded, the noble Venetians should preserve it in a reliquary of finest gold, studded with diamonds and the most precious gems of the East. His glory cannot but be most exalted; for even in heaven, according to the pious John Gereon, he formed with Saint Anne, his daughter Mary and Saint Joseph, the family of Jesus Christ.

We should, therefore, have great confidence in his intercession, hoping to be rewarded for our devotion with abundant favors.

Source: The Life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, by Monsignor Gentilucci, 1856

A printable file to the above information is below and a link to the book  which the information  came from is:
https://archive.org/details/LifeOfTheMostBlessedVirginMary

Morning Prayers.

 When thou awakest bless thyself with the sign of the Cross, and pray that God would so enlighten thee with the light of his Holy Spirit, as not to consent to sin.

 When thou hast put on thy clothes, give not way to idle words or vain fancies,but, lift up thy heart to God in silence, and prepare thyself to pray as hereafter follows.

 After prayers, purpose firmly and constantly within thyself not to commit willfully, that day, anything whereby God or thy neighbour may be offended.

O God the Father, who saidst in the beginning, Let there be light, and it was made: enlighten my eyes that I may never sleep in sin, lest at any time the deceits of the enemy, or my own corruption, should prevail against me.

O God the Son, most beautiful and true light, shining in darkness, and enlightening every one that comes into this world: expel away from me all clouds of ignorance, and give me understanding, that in thee, and through thee, I may see and know the Father; whom to know, is to live; and to serve, is to reign forever.

O God the Holy Ghost, who in infamest the wills of all those in whom thou vouchsafe to dwell with heavenly affection, pour into my mind the gifts of holy charity, that, despising all vain and transitory things, I may with a continual desire long for the true and everlasting joys of thy heavenly kingdom.

O Holy Trinity, one God, defend me this day from the deceits and temptations of the devil, keep me from all sin, and preserve me from sudden and unprovided death, raise up, O God, my body from sleep and drowsiness, and my soul from sin, that I may praise and glorify thy holy name, to whom belongs all benediction, and honour, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, now and forever. Amen.

    Lastly call to mind thy affairs with composure or spirit, and resolve to spend the day to come, as if it were the last of thy life.

The Key of Heaven or a Posey of Prayers From Catholic Authors. Imprimatur 1918

We have added two new chapters to the Mom's page from the book, "Popular Instructions on the Upbringing of Children."   You will also find the Appendix from this wonderful book as well.  It is terrific.

We have finally finished this month's Gazette.  Yeah!  You can find it on our download page.  We hope that you enjoy it!