Massachusetts Audubon This part of the story is perhaps the most improbable and yet the most significant. In March, 1999, Catherine and I were at a volunteer appreciation supper at the Ipswich River Wildlife Sanctuary of the Massachusetts Audubon. The wondrous 2,000+ acre property is located ten minutes from our home, and we had been volunteers for more than ten years. The supper is set up by connecting folding tables in the barn so it looks like a long French picnic. There are actually two of these long tables and about 75 people were there. Everyone gets something from the buffet and chooses their own seat randomly. Sitting across from us was one of our friends, Beverly, a woman in her 70s. Beverly felt herself connected to the spirit world and believed that two spirits resided on her shoulders. She had entire histories for these two beings. She did not always share this information with others but she trusted Catherine and me not to judge her. The conversation of the people near us was about the connectedness of all life, a very appropriate topic in that setting. All of a sudden, Beverly looked at Catherine and me and emphatically stated that we should go to Easter Mass at the LaSalette Faith Community. “What is that?”, I asked. She said it is a faith community in the Catholic tradition that would appeal to both of us. The conversation then went on to something else. In truth, I completely forgot about her suggestion by the next day. We were not looking for a community and the idea of a Catholic community was not terribly appealing to me. For Easter, we usually visited Catherine’s parents but they were in Florida and would not be around this year. We had made plans to go to a Mass with a priest we knew and liked (actually from Camp Fatima), but that fell through right before Easter. The day before Easter, Beverly called to remind us about LaSalette. As we had no better offer, we decided to go. Elizabeth was home from college and we went as family. LaSalette Faith Community The LaSalettes are an order in the Catholic Church, like the Jesuits or Franciscans, each with their own story and history. In 1945, they purchased a large estate on 312 acres and started a seminary and shrine, located five minutes from our home. In the 1970s / 1980s, due to diminishing number of seminarians, the seminary was closed. The Shrine remained open and a group of lay parishioners as well as some LaSalette priests and brothers stayed on and formed a very supportive and loving community. The entire property was sold in the 1990s to a developer. The community that had been there since the 1970s wished to stay together, and they searched for a place to call home. They found a highly creative solution by renting the 4H building at the Topsfield fairgrounds for Sunday Mass. When Catherine, Liz and I arrived at the 4H building, we were welcomed by a friendly greeter and given a song sheet. We entered and took a seat to the side. The building itself was a cinderblock structure with no frills at all. The community had transformed the building into an inviting space with many flowers, Easter lilies and an folding table altar with a simple altar cloth. A community member came over to welcome us. She gave us the lay of the land (where the bathrooms were located) and thanked us for coming to join them on Easter. As the more than 200 people came in, it felt like a family wedding with lots of hugs and kisses. The risers at the front of the space were already populated with the choir dressed in formal black and white. A small procession of people walked down an aisle leading to the altar. The air was filled with expectancy. The Mass began and the entire congregation sang out loudly with the choir. I had been to other churches and this degree of enthusiastic singing was not always the case. We joined in with our song sheets. The Mass progressed in its usual manner which, by now, was familiar. At communion, several members of the community as well as the priest gave bread and wine. The priest announced that there were two types of “wine” offered – one with alcohol, one without. It occurred to me as a thoughtful gesture for those who, for one reason or another, could not drink alcohol. For communion, the choir sang a beautiful song, accompanied by several musicians including piano, flute, trumpet and violin. The communion song finished and all were in their seats, quiet. The choir then began to sing a Capello – no musical accompaniment. The words “I love you Lord and I lift my voice” were joined by the whole congregation. There was no such song on the sheet. For the first verse everyone sang the melody. Then, as the song continued, beautiful harmonies were added spontaneously. This, in itself, was surely lovely. However, the true magic was what I saw when people were singing. One after the next entered a state of trance, or better, a state of presence. They went inside themselves and it showed. Even the air felt electrified. I received this gift emotionally and drank it in. I saw that many had their eyes closed and the ones with open eyes were soft. I did not know what they were connecting to, but clearly, they did. I looked at Catherine. Both of us saw clearly what was going on. The song finished. The Mass continued till the final blessing. As we all filed out, people wished each other and us a good Easter. Then, as a final surprise gift, lovely yellow daffodils were given to all. Liz went back to college to finish her senior year. The following Sunday. I asked Catherine if she would like to go again. She agreed. This time, there were half as many people but still over 100. I liked it even more. It was more intimate, and at the end of the Mass, there was food and hanging out together. We went the following Sunday and every Sunday throughout the entire summer. We started to get to know the people in the community. I can’t remember if it was on Easter Sunday or the next Sunday when a lady named Vicky, who was a member of the LaSalette community and also the mother of one of Elizabeth’s friends from Bishop Fenwick High School, came over to us and said, “You both should do your Cursillo. “What’s a Cursillo?”, I asked. And that will be the subject of the next blog.
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After our initial encounter visiting Liz at Camp Fatima in the summer of 1995, Catherine and I volunteered at Camp Fatima for the next 10 years (1996-2005). EC week is an overnight co-ed weeklong camp for children and adults ages 9+ with physical and or mental challenges. Many campers would not qualify for other camps. It is free of charge for all campers. As the third week of August approached each year, we found ourselves getting excited and happy to re-connect with the Fatima community, some of whom became life-long friends. I have selected only three of the many experiences we had. Hopefully, it will provide a taste of what made this place so special for us. For more info on EC week, see www.ecweek.org. The Horse Program This was our primary responsibility for all ten years. There were always at least six volunteers in the horse program. A few, Mike, a Boston mounted police officer, and Chris, a horse woman, came back every year and became good friends. Most of the volunteers at camp were city-folk, think South Boston, and the world of horses was completely foreign to them. Even though they did remarkable things with the campers, they were glad that someone else care for the horses, muck the paddocks and make sure everything was safe and enjoyable for the campers. In this way, we were quickly accepted as valued members of the EC family. Every morning around 6AM, Catherine and I would meet for our walk down to the paddocks together. It was like a “date” and I would wait at her cabin. There were women’s cabins, men’s cabins and camper / counselor cabins. On the way, as a surprise bonus for getting up early, we had “first breakfast” at the wood shop. One of the volunteers decided to make egg sandwiches and coffee for all the early risers. It always felt like being around a campfire, just hanging out with friends. Catherine and I then walked together on a beautiful trail through the pine trees, gave the horses their grain in buckets, spread some hay bales throughout the paddock usually shared by six horses, and shoveled up the manure while the horses had their breakfast. When horses eat, they settle in and all is quiet. It was a beautiful way to start a day. The first activity period started around 10am. By this time, the “horse crew” had saddled up the horses so we were ready for campers. We had decided that all campers regardless of disability could ride if they wished. Just one story -There was a very heavy camper with both of her legs amputated to the hip. She was clear that she wanted to ride and we were clear that we were going to make that happen for her. Her intellectual abilities were quite functional and she told us that “this was her chance.” Between the horse crew, her counselor and her willingness, up she went. Two of us were on each side of the horse and held her up. As with all the rides, one of us led the horse around the paddock. The joy she expressed still reverberates in my memory and heart. Over the years, we refined our methods and the maintenance crew built a sturdy ramp that wheelchairs could climb. Some campers just liked to look at horses, others fed carrots and felt “tickled” by the horse’s soft mouth. However, most campers, with our assistance, rode the horses. Very few campers had ever been near a horse, and certainly did not imagine they would actually ride one. It was stirring and joyful to see their happiness. My experiences over the years with “exceptional citizens” changed me profoundly in my understanding and relationship with those with “special needs.” I now find myself saying hello to almost all children in wheelchairs, especially those with cerebral palsy whose speech ability is challenged. In almost all cases, the parent is also very appreciative that someone has acknowledged and engaged her child who is often unseen. Special Programs Each year, EC Week selects a theme, including a nightly play. Themes are from musicals like Mary Poppins, Beauty and the Beast and the Lion King. Due to our love and experience with theater, Catherine and I volunteered to be “extras” in this group whenever they needed us. When, for example, the theme was The Sound of Music, we played the roles of nuns and Nazis in a single night, with a quick costume change. Many of the people in this group had been coming to Fatima for decades. During the year, they made costumes, sets and props, wrote dialogue and rehearsed the songs. Over the years, we sometimes got the opportunity, in the months before camp, to help with this preparation. Masses The singers in Special Programs were also the “folk choir” for the masses. We joined and learned quite a few new songs throughout the years. Campers also spontaneously joined the choir whenever they wished. All the Masses had one basic theme: LOVE. Sometimes four campers would each be given a letter, L_O_ V_ E and at some moment they would spell it out in front of the altar. It is really important to mention that at Fatima nothing worked precisely. For example, love might be spelled starting with the V. But after a little adjustment, all was well. EC week made it abundantly clear that what really matters is kindness, not the results or performance. This is remarkably liberating when an entire group for a week adopts this attitude. We lived in “camp time”, and as an example, meals started when they did. In the world of exceptional citizens, “things always happen” and if the response is kindness, all is well and many felt that they have tasted a bit of heaven. We certainly did. The experiences I described and many more that remain to be shared some other time could certainly have happened at any camp with exceptional citizens. The campers bring the magic. That EC week has now been running for more than 60 years would probably not have happened had it not been for the Church’s support. I did not think about this at the time. It just filtered in on my way to becoming Catholic. Background When Elizabeth had finished her grammar school years at St. Mary’s, she wanted something larger with better sports. We agreed and enrolled her in the local, public middle school. Although there were some positive aspects, both Catherine and I were generally dissatisfied with the quality of education offered. Elizabeth was a really good student, and we felt the school simply did not have enough for her in their curriculum. Some of her teachers recommended we send her to a sleep away boarding school for high school that provided excellent opportunities for gifted students. This option did not appeal to us at all. We loved living together as a family with all the joys and learnings. In addition, we could not afford it. Catherine, Elizabeth and I visited a number of private schools in our area but none of them felt right. Most were too expensive and oozed an entitled attitude, others did not have an adequate sports program. We also considered the local public high school but Catherine had substitute taught there and the atmosphere of the school did not appeal to her at all. When we visited Bishop Fenwick High School for their open house, something was immediately different for all of us. There was a sense of mission. Service to others and appropriate decent values were baked into both their sports program and their scholastic offerings. The presentations by their teachers, students and current parents felt genuine. In particular, the head of the math department agreed to test Elizabeth and see if she could she skip geometry because she had taken an intensive three-week geometry summer program sponsored by John Hopkins University. They were not “selling” the school – just showing how they do it. As a bonus, the female student who showed us around was a good athlete on several teams. This finalized the decision for Elizabeth. Elizabeth thrived at Fenwick and so did we. She made life-long friends, ran track, played field hockey, participated in the school plays, and became president of the national honor society. All this led to a full scholastic scholarship to college (amazing!). Her teachers got to know her quite well and had discovered that she had been riding horses since she was little, which is crucial to this story. The Camp Fatima EC Week adventure begins A few of the staff at Bishop Fenwick were very involved in Camp Fatima EC (Exceptional Citizens) week. One day before camp was to start in August,1995, (Elizabeth had already completed her senior year at Fenwick), the person scheduled to run the horse program at Camp Fatima EC week landed in the hospital. The Camp needed a very quick solution and they thought of Elizabeth. They called us and as luck or co-incidence would have it, she was returning from her summer job as an outdoor adventure counselor the very next day. Liz arrived home and agreed to do it. A few hours later, two of the teachers from Fenwick, whom we knew well, picked her up and off they went to camp. Catherine and I were invited to come three days later, on visiting day. We knew almost nothing about the camp except that it was for special needs children and adults (called exceptional citizens). We discovered that EC week had been running since the 1950s. There were 150 campers and 300 counselors and staff, all volunteers. The camp is 100% free to the campers, and is wheelchair accessible with an on-site health care team available 24/7. Camp Fatima is a Catholic camp sponsored by the Diocese of Manchester, New Hampshire; all religious denominations are welcome. Each camper has a one-to-one relationship with a counselor for the entire week. The counselor is with and/or responsible for the camper day and night. The rest of the 150 staff help in all the activities including food preparation, maintenance and everything else that goes into a community of almost 500 people for one week. Catherine and I drove the two hours to Gilmanton Iron Works, New Hampshire. As we turned onto the “camp road”, a pine tree lined quarter mile, our first vision was a very large grassy horse paddock with six horses. We were then greeted by the human “welcoming” crew who told us where to park, gave us a schedule of the day and invited us to walk around. We introduced ourselves as “Elizabeth’s parents” and large smiles appeared on the faces of the greeters. “She’s here somewhere.” We slowly breathed in the surroundings. Camp Fatima is a beautiful New England camp used as a boy’s camp for the rest of the summer. It has all the amenities – the beautiful lake for swimming, the horse paddock, an area for arts and crafts, and a very large grassy commons for all sorts of activities. There is a paved road running around the commons making everything wheelchair accessible. There is a large dining hall, gym and recreation center and many cabins for the campers and counselors to sleep in. That it happened to be a beautiful sunny day made it all the more pleasant. We found Liz with the horses. Our first “activity” on visitor’s day was a large outdoor Mass officiated by the Bishop of Manchester. At that time, Masses were still quite foreign to me. The campers were mostly on blankets with their counselors and cabinmates and it looked like a large, relaxed picnic. Lots of campers were in wheelchairs, some were just running around, others had settled in. The Mass was geared to the campers and it was truly lovely. What touched us deeply was the sense of love that was evident between all the volunteers and the campers. Camp Fatima’s motto was “Love in Action” and it was palpable. Right on the spot, Catherine and I Iooked at each other and said “We can do this. We can volunteer next year.” We are not necessarily impulsive, so this decision was quite spontaneous for both of us. When we later checked with the person running the camp about this possibility, he said that they usually require references. “Do you think your daughter would give you a positive reference?!! We really appreciate that she pitched in when we needed help”. We smiled. See www.ecweek.org for more info and lots of photos Next blog – 10 years at Camp Fatima 1/6/2021 0 Comments January 06th, 2021We moved to Ipswich in 1993. The primary impetus for the move was Catherine’s lifelong dream of having a horse. She also wished to live a more rural life connected to nature. We found a property with several acres that we could afford. Catherine decided to a wait an entire year before choosing where to place the vegetable and flower gardens. She wanted to get to know the land, and listen to it through the four seasons, before changing or adding anything. We decided to join a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) for one year. A CSA works as follows: a group of shareholders pays a fee upfront so that the farmer has enough money to do the major work of tilling, planting, etc. Different CSA’s invite the shareholders to participate in all sorts of ways so they feel part of it all. Catherine’s Polish and Irish family had been gardeners and farmers for generations so it was in her blood. This was all new to me. We saw an ad for a CSA located at a place called Cuvilly School. We knew virtually nothing about Cuvilly at the time. It turned out that in addition to the CSA, Cuvilly was also a pre-school for very young children. It focused on sustainability, utilizing a farm and its animals, and a natural setting, as part of the children’s education. It also turned out that Cuvilly (more formally, The Cuvilly Arts and Earth Center), was a ministry of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, a Catholic order, founded in France in 1804 by Sister Julie Billiart. Th name Cuvilly is the name of the town in France where Sister Julie was born. Specifically, Cuvilly was dedicated to modeling ecological sustainability through programs in education, agriculture and the arts. Cuvilly had started in the 1980s when a visionary Sister, Pat Rolinger, was granted permission to start a summer school program in the dairy barn on the Notre Dame Sisters large property in Ipswich. During the growing and harvesting seasons, Catherine and I got to know and deeply appreciate Sister Pat for who she was and what she had already accomplished. She loved and rescued animals of all sorts and so did we. We already had dogs, cats, horses, chickens and ducks and more were in our future plans. One day, I asked Sister Pat if I might be able to be of service to Cuvilly in some way. She told me that she had been slowly working on the story of the founding of Cuvilly and it needed both editing and improvement. I liked writing and told her I would do my best. During the process, I got to know her even better. When the project was over, she asked if I would like to be on the Board for Cuvilly. I had never been on a board before and I thought that my experience running a business and my training as a lawyer might be useful. She thought I would be a good addition and I stayed on the board for the next six years, three of them as chairperson. Other than one other woman, the board consisted exclusively of Sisters of Notre Dame. Most had been teachers, professors and administrators. It was my first time getting to know women who had dedicated their lives to a Catholic religious life. In addition to learning about the challenges and opportunities of being on a board, I got to know these remarkably vibrant and thoughtful women. To a person, they were deeply concerned and committed to improving social and environmental conditions. At the time, I did not realize that simply being with this group would subtlety influence my choice to become Catholic several years later. Perhaps the most far-reaching gift from Sister Pat was that she introduced me to the work of Thomas Berry. On just a few occasions in my life, a book has entered my consciousness so deeply that it transformed my understanding. His book, written with Brian Swimme, The Universe Story, did this for me. The book is a scientific presentation of the universe from its mysterious “flaring forth” until now, presented as a narrative, unfolding story. The writing is both clear and eloquent and it rang true for me. I had studied Gurdjieff’s “Ray of Creation” for many years and this book helped me truly see where I fit in this most extraordinary story. Thomas Berry was an original. He was a priest in the Passionate order who started as a cultural historian and became what he termed an “eco-theologian”. That Sister Pat and the other Sisters, and even more significantly Thomas Berry were in the Catholic tradition both perplexed and opened up the Catholic story for me. How could these open-minded and open-hearted people, who clearly saw where humans and all other beings were actually situated in the narrative of the universe, “believe” in the Catholic, biblical story. How did the contradictions between science and story (myth) work for them? My understanding of what it means for me to be Catholic was born from this fire. I needed to ponder. Please see www.cuvilly.org for more info and wonderful photos. |
David FeldmanDog walker, Dog Mediator, Father, Husband, Categories |