My fairy tale life

It is not uncommon to hear people speaking of another as possessing "a fairy tale life", a phrase which is generally taken to mean a life of ease and privilege. Had these people ever actually read fairy tales, at least the ones with which I'm familiar, they wouldn't speak so foolishly. Many, if not most, of the characters in the stories known to me experience every manner of trial and tribulation; ease and privilege, if they are part of the story, are only reached after much suffering. There always seems to be some great difficulty which must be overcome, a test which must be passed, in order for the character to find peace and happiness. It might be poverty, as in the case of the Little Match Girl; or an evil sorcerer, as in the case of the Frog Prince and Beauty and the Beast; or wicked stepmothers, as in the case of Cinderella and Snow White; or an evil fairy, as in the case of Sleeping Beauty; or a sea witch, as in the case of The Little Mermaid. And the list goes on, making it clear that a fairy tale life is not an easy one by far.

One of my favorite stories, The Wild Swans by Hans Christian Andersen, has many of these fairy tale trials. The heroine Eliza is banished from her home by her wicked stepmother, who is also a witch and who turns Eliza's six brothers into wild swans. In order to break the spell and free her brothers Eliza must knit six coats, one for each brother, out of stinging nettles which she must pick with her own hands; the nettles are like needles which tear and cut her flesh. And all the while she is knitting she may not speak a word or the spell will never be broken. Eliza begins her painful task in the solitude of a cave where, before long, she is found by a group of huntsmen, the most handsome and noblest of whom is the king of the country. To every one of his questions her answer is silence; she must remain mute. Still, her beauty and evident goodness so move the king to love her that he marries her not long after he brings her to his castle. Eliza continues to knit the stinging nettles, leaving her husband's side in the middle of the night to pick more nettles in the dark and foreboding cemetery near the castle. Her husband follows her and, on the advice of his trusted counselor, agrees to have Eliza put to death for witchcraft. As the fire is being readied for Eliza--she is to be burned at the stake as a witch--she continues knitting. Suddenly six wild swans appear in the sky over her head--her six brothers--and Eliza throws the nettle coats over each one in turn. Instantly each one returns to his human form; but the youngest brother's right arm remains a swan's wing because his sister had not had enough time to finish his coat. Eliza and her brothers declare her innocence, and her husband embraces her and takes her home to their castle.

Banishment; physical suffering; emotional suffering; loneliness; rejection; injustice; silence in the face of mistreatment and misunderstanding; the threat of death--these were Eliza's lot. A fairy tale life? Yes, indeed. And yet in the end, it all came out well. Perhaps this is the message in all of this story telling: that no matter what sufferings, privations, persecutions, and trials must be undergone in this life, there is always the certain hope of a happy ending.

And so, just as it is in my beloved fairy tales, when I think of all that has happened to me through the years, I could list many difficulties, trials, and tests: none of which I would like to experience again, all of which have helped to form the person I am now. I am so much the better for all of it. Yes, I can truthfully say that mine has been, and continues to be, a fairy tale full of wonder. And I believe that my fairy tale life will have a happy ending. Surely God will not deny it to one who wants, more than anything, to live happily ever after...

Real love in real life

Every day at Mass I see them, side by side in their usual pew, shoulders touching, and white-haired heads bowed slightly over their missals. With a dignity and grace born of the Faith, they sit silently before Mass begins, then quietly rise in unison as the priest enters the church. Soon he helps her to kneel slowly and stiffly, and then he too kneels slowly and stiffly beside her. They are as a pair of angels beholding the Holy Sacrifice from their favorite little corner of the world. They are a knight and his lady whose dignity age could never remove. Theirs is a beauty which is all too rare, a beauty which comes from loving God first and best, and loving each other in Him.

Lately I have wondered about real love. I believe in it with all my heart; I know that it exists, but where? To see this husband and wife is an accidental joy which God gives me each day to show me that real love can be found in this world. It is a gift. And it is that love, after the gift of life, which is His greatest gift to us.

The Mass has ended. They kneel for a time, spending these moments with God as though time matters not at all, then rise slowly, stiffly in unison. He takes her coat and helps her, very gently and carefully, to put it on; his gallantry is such a lovely sight. Then he takes her arm and guides her tenderly into the aisle where each in turn genuflects, but only partly; their aged knees will allow only so much movement. Then, arm in arm, they quietly leave the church. As they pass me I can't help but notice that their eyes look for all the world like stars twinkling in the heavens, and that their faces have a radiance that is not of this world.

Yes, that is love, and I have seen it. It is real love in real life. And tomorrow, by God's grace, I will see it again.

Real love

What is married love? It is triune--the lover, the beloved, and God. It seems that we forget that God must be the third partner in marriage for it to be real love, and that He must always be our first and best love. We love the ones we love because we see the goodness in them that only God can put there. He has placed in each one of us a longing for the infinite which is Himself; and, without God, no human love can satisfy our desire for infinite love. Only God can do this. It is only in loving God with and in our beloved, selflessly and sacrificially, that we truly love him; and that love which is real never dies but grows stronger with each passing day. As Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote, "Two human loves make one divine." And, as Dante said of Beatrice, "She looks on Heaven, and I look on her." But in looking on her, Dante saw the Heaven which Beatrice saw; and so she led him to God. This is the lifework of marriage: to lead each other to Heaven. Only real love can do this; and real love never fails.

Recipe for a relationship

"My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarelling with you as often as may be."

--Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice

Candlemas thoughts

"Candles are beautiful symbols of our sacrifices. They are like living things. They eat and drink the wax from the bees, made collectively in association with sweetness. They breathe air. They move in their flames as they flicker. They communicate to our eyes a beautiful light and give contrast to their surroundings by illumination. They burn out at the end of their span. So do we. They are consumed for the Lord in the liturgy. So should we be. We do all these things..."

--Father John Zuhlsdorf

Candlelight

There is something so lovely in candlelight:
warm and tender, and just bright enough
to show the shapes and forms of its surroundings,
a caressing glow which shows the softer side of things.
Holy, pure and white--candlelight is lovers' light.

Nobly done

"Nothing of what is nobly done is ever lost."

--Charles Dickens