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hiswhiteknight · 7 years ago

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The Perfect Night

Summary: Steve had the perfect cover for a surprise for the reader. Hopeful he could hold back his nerves and do what has to be done.

This is a oneshot for @redgillan #stevesemotionalbirthday. My emotion is Building. Hope you enjoy!! Not my gif.

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Words: 1275

Warning: Fluff, maybe one ‘curse’ word

Steve straightened his tie, looking in the mirror. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, it was his birthday. When he approached Y/N about going out tonight, she had already been making plans, “Steve, I was going to surprise you. I bought a special outfit,” she wiggled her eyebrows making him laugh.

“Come on Doll, it’s my special day – let me plan it,” he gripped her hand. She rolled her eyes, before nodding her head, “That’s my girl.”

And today was his 100th birthday and he had every step planned out. First, he had Wanda take her the spa. Start her day with relaxing and enjoyment. He had to run 50 miles to relax. Bucky was highly amused with how nervous he was.

Than she got to go shopping with all the ladies, bought a dress for the night, and brunched afterwards. Steve had the girls take her to her favorite shop, she loved the mimosas at this little café down from Tony’s building. Steve hit the gym some more, the anticipation for the day was eating him alive, “Will you calm down,” Tony said, walking into the gym, “You’re going to freak the girl out.”

He rolled his eyes, this was Tony trying to distract him from his thoughts, “Yeah bro,” Sam answered back, “Stop acting suspicious, she’ll catch on.”

“Come on,” Bucky chimed in, “Let the man cope how he wants.”

Next she was whisked away, to get her hair, nails, and makeup done. It was, of course a special night, you only turn 100 once. And with what the ladies were sharing with him, she was blissfully unaware. Steve on the other hand could feel the excitement and nerves build in his chest, this day was going to be bigger than him.

Tony had set up this little cottage area away from the city where they could be alone and celebrate. It was romantic and dreamy. Y/N loved staring at the night sky and day dreaming about life. She loved to dance, sing badly, and laugh. She is one of the only people to make him feel normal and laugh, all the time. Steve knew after the first date, which she had no idea was a first date, that she was going to be his girl for the rest of their lives.

The car pulled up, Steve held his breath. Y/N stepped out of the car looking enchanting, wearing a smile. The nerves of today were building in his chest, they almost went away until she spoke, “Captain Rogers, surprise meeting you at here,” she walked to him and kissed him on the lips.

“What can I say, doll,” he put his arms around her waist as they walked to the table, “Small world.”

“Happy Birthday babe,” she sat at the table, “This place is amazing. The lake, the stars,” she looked at him, right into his soul, “It’s intimate, you picked the best place to have your birthday."

Steve was relieved she had no idea what he was planning, it made this all the better and all that never wrecking. They ate some fancy pasta with a special dessert as they talked about their day. She couldn't help but laugh at herself or her awkward moments that happen all the time. That's what he loved about her, she was honest and open regardless of how it made her look. And she didn't look at him, like he was Captain America. He was just Steve from Brooklyn.

He grinned at her, "I wouldn't want to celebrate this night with anyone else or any other way."

Y/N looked down shyly, "I'm so lucky to have you in my life Steve. You're making me feel like it's my birthday."

"I'm lucky every day you're in it, so my best gal deserves the best," again she looks down shyly again, "Hey, don't get shy on my now."

"Can a girl help it," she laughed at him, "I mean, look at you?"

He shook his head, he wasn't sure when he wanted to do it yet, so that little sparkle in his chest hasn't gone away, "Come on, dance with me," he reached for her. She gripped his hand, looking at him warmly, planting herself against his body.

This is what it was supposed to feel like, romance and building - like the best is yet to come. Y/N had her cheek pressed against his chest and they just danced.

Suddenly, Y/N popped her head up, “Let’s go swimming,” she grinned mischievously.

Steve looked down at her shocked, “Excuse me,” this was definitely not part of the plan.

“You’ve planned this magical evening, but let’s do something spontaneous,” Y/N spun herself out of Steve’s arm, already taking off her shoes.

She brought the best out of him because she was spontaneous, fun, and free. She didn’t judge and she was fierce as hell. Right at that moment, he would do anything for her, “Alright,” he grinned down at her, untying his shoes.

Y/N was the first to jump off the dock, “Chowabunga!”

Steve shook his head before jumping in after her. He pulled her close, “I can’t keep up with you,” he laughed.

“That’s why you like me Steve Rogers,” she smiled back, pulling herself into his arms.

“Do you remember our first date,” he laughed.

Nodding, “The one you didn’t know was a date,” she laughed, “Yeah, I remember. You tried to take everything so seriously.”

“You took me to a paint night,” he laughed, “There were instructions and a painting we had to copy. And you insisted on doing your own thing.”

“I’m a free spirit when it comes to art, Steve,” she said matter of fact.

“You splattered paint all over my canvas trying to be a free spirit,” He grinned down at her, pushing some hair behind her ear.

“It added character,” she added.

He nodded, “Exactly,” he whispered, “Ever since I met you, you’ve added so much to my life. All this character, joy, and love.” She watched him closely, taking in every word, “That day, even if I didn’t know it was a date, I knew you were going to be my happy ending. That splattered up portrait, I knew I spend the rest of my life with you.”

Y/N stopped breathing, holding onto every moment as it passed by, “Steve.”

Steve was digging around, “Hold on, this wasn’t exactly as I planned it,” he laughed, wrestling with something. His hand came out of the water, “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me and make me the luckiest man alive.”

She snorted through her tears of joy, “That’s why you wore socks,” which made him laugh, “Yes, a hundred times yes.”

Everything building up to this moment exploded why Y/N said yes. Steve placed the ring on her finger and pulled her into this hard, passionate, deep, and firework kind of kiss. They both saw stars when they pulled away, “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Steve Grant Rogers,” she whispered back.

“Alright, love birds,” they heard from the shore, “Since you both ruined the plan, can you please put more clothes back on, so we can celebrate Steve’s old age and your new found engagement,” Tony yelled with amusement.

“Oh,” Y/N said, “I’m glad I didn’t suggest skinny dipping.”

Steve forehead rested against her shoulder, “Yeah, I kind of forgot they were waiting to celebrate. Tony rented the whole camping area.”

She chuckled, “How’d you know I would say yes,” she questioned, making both their way to shore.

He lifted her up bridal style, “What can I say, I know my best gal,” and he kissed her again.

#stevesemotionalbirthday #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #building

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pamphletstoinspire · 7 years ago

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Saint Padre Pio - Confessor - Feast Day: September 23rd - Ordinary Time

Padre Pio was born May 25, 1887 in Pietrelcina, Italy, a small country town located in southern Italy. His parents were Grazio Mario Forgione (1860-1946) and Maria Guiseppa de Nunzio Forgione (1859-1929). He was baptized the next day, in the nearby Castle Church, with the name of his brother, Francesco, who died in early infancy. Other children in the family were an older brother, Michele; three younger sisters: Felicita, Pellegrina and Grazia; and two children who died as infants.

Religion was the center of life for both Pietrelcina and the Forgione family. The town had many celebrations throughout the year in honor of different saints and the bell in the Castle Church was used not for ringing the hour, but for daily devotional time. Friends have described the Forgione family as "the God-is-everything-people" because they attended Daily Mass, prayed the Rosary nightly and fasted three days a week from meat in honor of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel. Although Padre Pio’s grandparents and parents could not read and write, they memorized Sacred Scripture and told the children Bible stories. It was in this lovely family setting that the seeds of Faith were nurtured within Padre Pio.

From his early childhood, it was evident that Padre Pio had a deep piety. When he was five years old, he solemnly consecrated himself to Jesus. He liked to sing hymns, play church and preferred to be by himself where he could read and pray. As an adult, Padre Pio commented that in his younger years he had conversed with Jesus, the Madonna, his guardian angel, and had suffered attacks by the devil.

Padre Pio’s parents first learned of his desire to become a priest in 1897. A young Capuchin friar was canvassing the countryside seeking donations. Padre Pio was drawn to this spiritual man and told his parents, "I want to be a friar… with a beard." His parents traveled to Morcone, a community thirteen miles north of Pietrelcina, to investigate if the friars would be interested in having their son. The Capuchins were interested, but Padre Pio would need more education than his three years of public schooling.

In order to finance the private tutor needed to educate Padre Pio, his father went to America to find work. During this time, he was confirmed (September 27, 1899), studied with tutors and completed the requirements for entrance into the Capuchin order. At age 15, he took the Habit of the Order of Friars Minor Capuchin on January 22, 1903. On the day of his investiture, he took the name of Pio in honor of Saint Pius V, the patron saint of Pietrelcina, and was called Fra, for brother, until his priestly ordination.

A year later, on January 22, 1904, Fra Pio knelt before the altar and made his First Profession of the Evangelical Counsels of Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience. Then, he traveled by oxcart to the seventeenth-century friary of St. Francis of Assisi and began six years of study for the priesthood and continued his development in community life toward the profession of his solemn vows. After three years of temporary profession, Padre Pio took his final vows in 1907.

Then on August 10, 1910, the much-anticipated day finally arrived. The twenty-three year old Fra Pio was ordained a priest by Archbishop Paolo Schinosi at the Cathedral of Benevento. Four days later, he celebrated his first Mass at the parish church of Our Lady of the Angels.

Within a month of his ordination, (September 7, 1910), as Padre Pio was praying in the Piana Romana, Jesus and Mary appeared to him and gave him the wounds of Christ, the Stigmata. For Padre Pio’s doctors, the wounds created much confusion. He asked Jesus to take away "the annoyance," adding, " I do want to suffer, even to die of suffering, but all in secret." The wounds went away and the supernatural life of Padre Pio remained a secret...for a while.

On November 28, 1911, Padre Agostino, who was a contemporary, friend, and confidant, was advised that Padre Pio was ill. He rushed into Padre Pio’s room to care for him. Padre Agostino observed what he thought was a dying man and rushed to the chapel to pray. When he finished praying, he returned to Padre Pio’s room and found his friend alert and full of joy.

This was the beginning of Padre Pio’s documented ecstasies – all of which were "edifying, theologically correct and expressed a deep love for God. "

Due to Padre Pio’s on-going ill health, he was sent home to recuperate and was separated from his religious community from the end of 1911 – 1916. During this time, the Capuchin Constitution required a friar who was sent home because of illness had to maintain his friar life as much as possible. Padre Pio did this. He said Mass and taught school.

On September 4, 1916, Padre Pio was ordered to return to his community life and was assigned to San Giovanni Rotondo, an agricultural community, located in the Gargano Mountains. Our Lady Of Grace Capuchin Friary was approximately a mile from town and was not easy to reach. The Capuchins had a reputation for their holiness and simple life. When Padre Pio became a part of the community at Our Lady of Grace, there were seven friars.

With the outbreak of the war, only three friars stayed at Our Lady of Grace; the others were selected for military service. At the beginning, his responsibilities included teaching at the seminary and being the spiritual director of the students. He spent his free time reading the Bible and handling correspondence. When another friar was called into service, Padre Pio became in charge of the college.

In August 1917 Padre Pio was inducted into the service and assigned to the 4th Platoon of the 100th Company of the Italian Medical Corps. During this time he was very unhappy. By mid-October he was in the hospital, but was not discharged. Finally, in March 1918, he was dismissed and returned to San Giovanni Rotondo.

Upon his return, Padre Pio became a spiritual director and had many spiritual daughters and sons. He had five rules for spiritual growth: weekly confession, daily Communion, spiritual reading, meditation and examination of conscience. In explaining his spiritual growth rules, Padre Pio compared dusting a room, used or unused on a weekly basis, to weekly confession. He suggested two times of daily meditation and self-examination: in the morning to "prepare for battle" and in the evening to "purify your soul." Padre Pio’s motto, "Pray, Hope and Don’t Worry" is the synopsis of his application of theology into daily life. A Christian should recognize God in everything, offering everything to Him saying, "Thy will be done". In addition, all should aspire to heaven and put their trust in Him and not worry about what he is doing, as long as it is done with a desire to please God.

In July 1918, Pope Benedict XV urged all Christians to pray for an end to the World War. On July 27, Padre Pio offered himself as a victim for the end of the war. Days later between August 5 -7, Padre Pio had a vision in which Christ appeared and pierced his side. As a result of this experience, Padre Pio had a physical wound in his side. The experience has been identified as a "transverberation" or piercing of the heart indicating the union of love with God.

A few weeks later, on September 20, 1918, Padre Pio was praying in the choir loft in the Church of Our Lady of Grace, when the same Being who appeared to him on August 5, appeared again. It was the wounded Christ. When the ecstasy ended, Padre Pio had received the Visible Stigmata, the five wounds of Christ, which would stay with him for his remaining 50 years.

By early 1919, word about the stigmata began to spread to the outside world. Over the years countless people, including physicians, examined Padre Pio’s wounds. Padre Pio was not interested in the physicians’ attempts to explain his stigmata. He accepted it as a gift from God, though he would have preferred to suffer the pains of Christ’s Passion without the world knowing. God used Padre Pio – especially the news of his stigmata – to give people hope as they began to rebuild their life after the war. Padre Pio and his spiritual gifts of the stigmata, perfume, prophecy and bilocation was a sign of God in their midst and led people back to their Faith. So life at the friary and the Church of Our Lady of Grace began to revolve around Padre Pio’s ministry. A room and priests were designated to handle the correspondence and the remaining friars heard confessions. San Giovanni Rotondo began to be filled with pilgrims. Since there were no hotels, people slept outdoors. A normal day for Padre Pio was a busy nineteen hours – Mass, hearing confessions and handling correspondence. He usually had less than two hours to sleep.

As his spiritual influence increased, so did the voices of his detractors. Accusations against Padre Pio poured in to the Holy Office (today the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith). By June 1922, restrictions were placed on the public’s access to Padre Pio. His daily Mass time varied each day, without announcement to diminish the crowds, and he was ordered not to answer correspondence from people seeking spiritual direction. It was also rumored that plans were being developed to transfer Padre Pio. However, both local and Church authorities were afraid of public riots and decided that a more remote and isolated place than San Giovanni Rotondo could not be found.

Despite the restrictions and controversies, Padre Pio’s ministry continued. From 1924 – 1931 various statements were made by the Holy See that denied the supernaturality of Padre Pio’s phenomena. On June 9, 1931, the Feast of Corpus Christi, Padre Pio was ordered by the Holy See to desist from all activities except the celebration of the Mass, which was to be in private. By early 1933, Pope Pius XI ordered the Holy See to reverse its ban on Padre Pio’s public celebration of Mass, saying, "I have not been badly disposed toward Padre Pio, but I have been badly informed."

Padre Pio’s faculties were progressively restored. First, the confessions of men were allowed (March 25, 1934) and then women (May 12, 1934). Although he had never been examined for a preaching license, the Capuchin Minister General granted him permission to preach, honoris cuasa, and he preached several times a year. In 1939 when Pope Pius XII was elected pope, he began to encourage people to visit Padre Pio. More and more people began to make pilgrimages.

In 1940, Padre Pio convinced three doctors to move to San Giovanni Rotondo and he announced plans to build a Home to Relieve Suffering. As Padre Pio expressed to Pope Pius, " …a place that the patient might be led to recognize those working for his cure as God's helpers, engaged in preparing the way for the intervention of grace." The doctors were excited about the building, but were fearful that this was not the time to begin such a project with Europe being on the brink of another world war.

These fears did not stop Padre Pio and the project began. After the war, Barbara Ward, a British humanitarian, came to Italy to write an article on postwar reconstruction. She attended Padre Pio’s Mass and met one of the physicians who came to San Giovanni Rotondo to work with the Home to Relieve Suffering. Upon learning of the project, she asked that the Home to Relieve Suffering receive a part of the funds designated for reconstruction. Consequently, the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA) gave a grant of $325,000 for the project. The building opened its doors on May 5,1956. A year later, Padre Pio announced plans for a medical and religious center where doctors and interns could further their medical studies and Christian formation.

With the opening of the hospital, Padre Pio was truly now an international figure and his followers greatly increased. To accommodate all the pilgrims, a new, large church was constructed.

In the mid-1960s, Padre Pio’s health began to deteriorate, but he continued to say Daily Mass and hear fifty confessions a day. By July of 1968, he was almost bedridden. On the fiftieth anniversary of the stigmata (September 20,1968), Padre Pio celebrated Mass, attended the public recitation of the Rosary and Benediction. On the next day, he was too tired to say Mass or hear confessions. On September 22, he managed to say Mass and the attendees had to struggle to hear him. Just after midnight, in the early morning hours of September 23, Padre Pio called his superior and asked to make his confession. He then renewed his vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. At 2:30am, Padre Pio died in his cell. As he foretold, Padre Pio lived sick but died healthy, with the stigmata healed.

On September 26, 1968, over a hundred thousand people gathered at San Giovanni Rotondo to pay their respects to this holy man. He was buried in the crypt prepared for him in the Church of Our Lady of Grace.

#padre pio #st. padre pio

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ruthfeiertag · 5 years ago

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Re-Run from 2016 “To the Letter”

The following is a post I wrote back in early 2016 — a simpler, happier time — for the Month of Letters blog. While we have left Valentine's Day 2020 behind us already, I'm re-posting this piece, in part because it's amusing and, in part, because I am concerned about the U.S. Postal Service and want to remind us all how desperately important letters can be. I hope it makes you smile.

(Also, Happy May the Fourth)

*****************

14 February, 2016 St. Valentine’s Day

My dear Ms. Bradford,

Greetings and enthusiastic wishes for a Valentine’s Day alight with loads of loving letters! I write you today not only to send greetings, but also to thank you for giving me the singular honour of writing the Valentine’s Day post — and to tell you with immense regret that I can’t possibly write such a piece.

Allow me to explain. You asked that I focus on the love-letter sections of the book I have been reading, To the Letter: A Celebration of the Lost Art of Letter Writing by Simon Garfield.* If only you had asked me for a general review of the book! In that case, I could have extolled its wit and the wide range of historical examples it provides. I would have offered up moving passages, such as the one in the introductory chapter, “The Magic of Letters,” in which Mr. Garfield writes eloquently about what we are in danger of losing:

Letters have the power to grant us a larger life. They reveal motivation and deepen understanding. They are evidential. They change lives, and they rewire history. The world used to run upon their transmission — the lubricant of human interaction and the freefall [sic] of ideas, the silent conduit of the worthy and the incidental, the time we were coming for dinner, the account of our marvelous day, the weightiest joys and sorrows of love. It must have seemed impossible that their worth would ever be taken for granted or swept aside. A world without letters would surely be a world without oxygen (p. 19),

and provided instances of the author’s humour, such as when, in an aside to his discussion of Seneca’s instructional correspondence, he gently pokes fun at academics who study epistolary matters. In this note, Mr. Garfield informs us that

Seneca’s letters were longer than the norm, ranging from 149 to 4,134 words, with an average of 955, or some 10 papyrus sheets joined on a roll. Philological scholars with time on their hands have calculated that a sheet of papyrus of approximately 9 x 11 inches contained an average of 87 words, and that a letter rarely exceeded 200 words (note, p. 55),

an observation that betrays the author’s own interest in such minutiae. He also spares not the Fathers of the Church. He points out that during the millennium when “Literacy was not encouraged among the populace” (p. 81), letter-writing declined and “theological letters are all we have.” Mr. Garfield finds these letters uninspiring and cautions his readers that we “may prefer death to the lingering torture of reading them” (p. 82).

I shall say nothing at all about Mr. Garfield’s three chapters reviewing historical advice on “How to Write the Perfect Letter,” about the heated debates regarding whether letters should mimic informal conversations, about the importance of addressing recipients as befits their stations, about where to place one’s signature, nor about how leaving wide margins was a sign of wealth and status. Epistolary silence shall envelope the fascinating descriptions of the evolution of the modern postal system; not a word will there be from my pen about the incredible fact that postage used to be paid not by the sender of a letter but by the person to whom it was addressed, nor shall I mention anything about the invention of the postage stamp, despite Mr. Garfield’s engaging description of its conception.**

But love letters! You must see how this will never do. Love letters can leave us open to terrible embarrassment. Mr. Garfield acknowledges that

Love letters catch us at a time in our lives where our marrow is jelly; but we toughen up, our souls harden, and we reread them years later with a mixture of disbelief and cringing horror, and — worst of all — level judgement. The American journalist Mignon McLaughlin had it right in 1966: ‘If you must re-read old love letters,’ she wrote in The Second Neurotics Notebook, ‘better pick a room without mirrors.’ (p. 336)

Reading the love letters of others can be almost as cheek-reddening as reading our own. Shall we really subject our LetterMo companions to such blushing?

Moreover, we all know the power of a love letter. Think how we are charmed when Hamlet, that most articulate of Shakespeare’s creations, writes awkwardly to Ophelia:

'Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love. 'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; I have not art to reckon my groans; but that I love thee best, O most best, believe

Adieu.

'Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, HAMLET.' (Hamlet, II. ii. 1212-20***)

And never let us forget that it is a letter, and not even an intentional love letter, but merely a letter of explanation, that finally wins Mr. Darcy the heart of Elizabeth Bennet. Do we wish to tempt our friends to deploy such power wantonly and without discretion? ****

But these are fictional examples, created strictly for our amusement or even for our edification. I really don't know whether we should intrude upon the privacy of people who actually lived — though Mr. Garfield patently feels no such compunction. He shamelessly lays out for us not only the ecstatic feelings of historical couples, he even brings up — and we’re both adults, so I’m just going to write the word straight out — SEX. I fancy you don’t believe me. Permit me, for veracity’s sake, to share some examples.

If you were to glance at page seventy-three, you would find Mr. Garfield’s account of

The letters between Marcus Aurelius and Fronto [which] track the rise and fall of a courtship from about ad 139, when Aurelius was in his late teens and his teacher in his late thirties, until about ad 148. The heart of their correspondence is ablaze with passion. ‘I am dying so for love of you,’ Aurelius writes, eliciting the response from his tutor, ‘You have made me dazed and thunderstruck by your burning love.’

All I will say is that, with all the conjugating the Romans had to learn, it’s a wonder there was time for such extra-curricular activity.

Mr. Garfield follows this Latin love affair with the tragic, even more explicit tale of Heloise and Abelard, those misfortunate, twelfth-century lovers. Theirs is another pupil-pedant passion, and Abelard writes that

‘With our lessons as our pretext we abandoned ourselves entirely to love.’ There followed ‘more kissing than teaching’ and hands that ‘strayed oftener to her bosom than the pages’ (p. 76).

The story culminates in pregnancy, a secret marriage, Abelard’s castration by Heloise’s relatives, and the retreat of both lovers into monastic life. Heloise’s love and desire for her husband remain unabated; during Mass, ‘“lewd visions of the pleasures we shared take such a hold upon my unhappy soul that my thoughts are on their wantonness instead of on my own prayers”’ (p. 78).

In a later chapter, Mr. Garfield treats us to a discussion of the romance of Napoleon and Josephine, and compares the market worth of their letters to the arguably more valuable missives of Admiral Lord Nelson. “In letters,” our author confides, “as everywhere else, sex sells: the Nelson [letter] went for Ł66,000, a fair sum but less than a quarter of a Bonaparte” (p. 192). Mr. Garfield puts before us the affaire de cœr of Emily Dickinson and her sister-in-law, Susan Gilbert. He quotes ‘a letter which echoed the steamy transactions of Abelard and Heloise …: “When [the pastor] said Our Heavenly Father,” I said “Oh Darling Sue”; when he read the 100th Psalm, I kept saying your precious letter all over to myself, and Susie, when they sang … I made up words and kept singing how I loved you”’ (p. 248). **** In another letter, Dickinson breathlessly confides to Gilbert that if they were together, “we need not talk at all, our eyes would whisper for us, and your hand fast in mine, we would not ask for language” (p. 248).

To be sure, there are genuinely moving examples of great love to be found in the book. We are reminded that passionate romances need not be defined by tragedy. Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett fell in love through their letters, and their correspondence describes a “swift 20-month crescendo from endearing fandom to all-consuming craving” (p. 345). The two poets eloped and lived happily for the duration of their marriage. Browning was “the man who swept her [Barrett] away and liberated her passion” (p. 347) — and married her.

While the concerns of the famous hold a particular fascination for the masses — as Shakespeare writes, “What great ones do the less will prattle of”****** — the most touching and poignant letters are those of Chris Barker and Bessie Moore. Mr. Barker was a British signalman during the Second World War, Miss Moore an acquaintance from Mr. Barker’s time working in the Post Office. When they began to write, Ms. Moore was involved with someone named Nick, but three months into their correspondence Ms. Moore has shed Nick and is trying to persuade Mr. Barker that they are friends, and not mere acquaintances. She succeeds admirably, and soon Mr. Barker is assuring her of his interest in having “fun at a later date” while warning her “not to let me break your heart in 1946 or 47” (p. 145), and stoking her interest by wondering what she’s like “in the soft, warm, yielding, panting flesh” (p. 147). But before long Miss Moore’s unwavering admiration and epistolary dedication have complicated Mr. Barker’s desire and he is writing “I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU” (p. 202).

Miss Moore waits for her signalman throughout the war and his time as a POW. In the epilogue, we learn that they were married in October 1945 and had two sons. It is to the elder, Bernard, that we owe thanks for the preservation of their letters. The younger Mr. Barker says of his parents that “Their love for each other was so complete, always, that it was difficult for my brother and I in childhood and adolescence to relate to each of them as a single person” (p. 425). In the last letter of the war, Mr. Barker writes his by-now wife, “I can never be as good as you deserve, but I really will try very hard … We shall be collaborators, man and woman, husband and wife, lovers” (p. 426). The Barkers’ letters cannot be read without becoming involved in their growing affection and in the history Mr. Barker includes in his letters to the steadfast woman who would become his partner. The letters are tender and grateful and passionate, and we learn a great deal from them about Mr. Barker’s experiences as a signalman, about how to lay the foundation for a lasting, loving relationship, and about how thoroughly Victorian sexual mores had been trampled into the dust.

I cannot but think that you are as shocked as I am. You have not read the book and are innocent regarding its contents. I am sure, in my heart of hearts, that you didn’t understand what you were asking me to do. But I am equally sure, Ms. Bradford, that you agree these matters ought not be laid out before the Month of Letters community, that none of our letter-writers could ever have the slightest interest in reading about affairs of the heart (and of the body) of other people. Our reputation as an Internet society devoted to promoting the respectable art of epistolary composition would suffer dreadfully, and neither of us wants to be complicit in bring such a judgement to pass.

I do hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for letting you down so. To make up for the lack of a post, I offer you a poem to run in its place instead, one more suitable for our impeccable epistolary society, to run in place of the piece I should have given you:

But For Lust Ruth Pitter

But for lust we could be friends, On each other’s necks could weep: In each other’s arms could sleep In the calm the cradle lends:

Lends awhile, and takes away. But for hunger, but for fear, Calm could be our day and year From the yellow to the grey:

From the gold to the grey hair, But for passion we could rest, But for passion we could feast On compassion everywhere.

Even in this night I know By the awful living dead, By this craving tear I shed, Somewhere, somewhere it is so.

I trust you understand my reasons for writing you this letter and do assure you that I remain

Your honoured and admiring epistolary confederate,

Ruth E. Feiertag

* Gotham Books, Penguin Group, 2014

** Those familiar with Terry Pritchett’s Going Postal will already have an inkling of the early history of stamps.

*** Open source Shakespeare, [http://www.opensourceshakespeare.org/search/search-results.php], accessed 3 February 2016).

****Garfield irresponsibly provides no advice for the proper composition of a love letter. For that we must look to John Beguine of The Atlantic. His article, “A Modern Guide to the Love Letter,” reminds us to choose “100 percent cotton paper,” that may “suggest to your beloved those other cotton sheets you hope to share.” He also cautions us not to “succumb to the temptation to employ your own personal stationery imprinted with your name and address. Such handsome lettering makes identification appallingly easy for your lover’s attorney.” Beguine covers other topics such as Ink, Elegance (“Elegance prompts wit rather than comedy, sentiment rather than sentimentality” and “Long-winded elegance is oxymoronic. So length does matter, but in writing, less is more”), Salutation, Body (“even if you have a knack for them, no pornographic drawings”), Metaphors, Grammar, Complimentary Close, Signature (“If you can’t bring yourself to close without a signature, limit yourself to your first initial. And try to be illegible here. There’s no reason to make the job easier for a lawyer someday [sic]”), Delivery (“bribe whomever you must to have the letter placed directly upon the beloved’s pillow”), and Accepting an Answer. ([http://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2015/02/a-modern-guide-to-the-love-letter/385370/])

***** One might also ponder Dickinson’s 1722 poem, “Her face was in a bed of hair”:

Her face was in a bed of hair, Like flowers in a plot — Her hand was whiter than the sperm That feeds the sacred light.

Her tongue more tender than the tune That totters in the leaves — Who hears may be incredulous, Who witnesses, believes.

****** Twelfth Night, I. I. 33. [http://www.shakespeare-online.com/plays/twn_1_2.html]

#Ruth Feiertag USPS SavetheUSPS #Letters #Simon Garfield #LetterWriting #USPS SavetheUSPS TotheLetter valentine's Day History

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awesome-favor-ngozi · 7 years ago

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The Name Of The Lord

The Name of the Lord At the age of thirty-three, Barbara Clapham came to live in London. She decided she was going to look for a church. One Sunday morning, she arrived at HTB. The young woman who was welcoming people at the door smiled at her and asked her name. Because of that smile, Barbara came back the following week. When she walked in the next Sunday the same person said, ‘Hello Barbara.’ Because the person on the door remembered her name, she decided that she was going to come back every Sunday. That was in 1947. From then on Barbara came almost every Sunday until she died, soon after celebrating her 100th birthday. She made a huge impact on the life of HTB (including running the finances of the church for many years). I wonder whether the young woman on the door had any idea of the difference she made by remembering Barbara’s name. There is great power in a name. Names are significant. This is true today, but it was even more so in the Hebrew culture we read about in the Bible. A Hebrew name is no mere label. The name of the Lord reveals who he is. Psalm 68:1-6 1. Praise the name of the Lord David urges: ‘sing to God, sing praise to his name, extol him who rides on the clouds – his name is the Lord’ (v.4). God reveals himself through his name. He gave his name to Moses (‘I AM WHO I AM’) when he came to liberate his people from slavery in Egypt (Exodus 3:14). Likewise, in this psalm we see that the God who bears this name has particular concern for the marginalised in society. God is ‘a father to the fatherless’ and ‘a defender of widows’ (Psalm 68:5). ‘God sets the lonely in families’ (v.6a). ‘God makes homes for the homeless’ (v.6a, MSG). ‘He leads forth the prisoners with singing’ (v.6b). One of the ways to honour the name of the Lord is to love and serve the marginalised: widows and orphans, the lonely, the homeless and those in prison. Lord, I praise your holy name. May your name be honoured in my life as I love and serve the marginalised in society. John 16:5-17:5 2. Power in the name of Jesus Do you know how much power there is in the name of Jesus? As Jesus leaves his disciples, he says to them, ‘I tell you the truth, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete… In that day you will ask in my name’ (16:23b–26a). When we go to God in prayer we do not ask in our own names, but in the name of Jesus. On our own we have no right to ask anything. But Jesus, through the cross and resurrection, has made it possible for you to have access to God in his name. Praying in Jesus’ name is about aligning yourself with Jesus. As you do this, your prayers harmonise with God’s desires for your life and you can pray that his will be done. You cannot do this on your own. You need the Holy Spirit. Jesus tells the disciples that it is to their advantage that he is going away because, ‘Unless I go away the Counsellor [the ‘Friend’, MSG] will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you’ (v.7). Jesus could only be in one place at a time. Now, by his Spirit, he can be with you and me as our friend and helper all the time, everywhere we go. The Holy Spirit will convince the world about guilt (supremely because ‘people do not believe in’ Jesus, v.9), and ‘he will guide [us] into all truth’ (v.13a). Every time we go off track or in the wrong direction, the Holy Spirit convicts us. We sense in our spirit that what we are doing is not right. The Holy Spirit never condemns us (Romans 8:1). He convicts us to repent and then to go in the right direction. He guides, sustains and strengthens you to become more like Jesus. He guides you into all truth. Truth is revealed by the Spirit of truth (John 16:13a). Among other things, he reveals the truth about you. The truth sets you free. Jesus promises you three things: Joy – in the midst of mourning and grief ‘I tell you the truth, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy’ (v.20). Justice will prevail. Evil will not have the last word. When Jesus rose from the dead, the disciples’ joy was so great that it completely overshadowed their grief – like a mother who has given birth to a baby and forgets the anguish of the birth (vv.21–22). Love – in the midst of hate You are loved. Even when ‘the world hates you’ (15:18), Jesus says to you that ‘the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God’ (16:27). The Spirit of Truth will reveal the Father’s total love for you. Peace – in the midst of trouble Jesus never promised you a trouble free life. Indeed, he says that in the world you will experience ‘tribulation and trials and distress and frustration’ (v.33, AMP). But he promises you ‘perfect peace and confidence in the midst of these trials’ because he has ‘overcome the world (I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you)’ (v.33, AMP). The most important gift that you receive from the Holy Spirit is a relationship with God. In this prayer Jesus highlights this as the true heart and definition of ‘eternal life’ – ‘this is eternal life that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent’ (17:3). This amazing description of eternal life is surrounded by Jesus’ prayer that God’s name would be glorified. Everything Jesus did while he was here on earth, and our relationship with the Father through Jesus, are all ultimately to the glory of God’s name. Lord, I can never thank you enough for the immense privilege of being able to pray in the name of Jesus. Today I pray… in your name. 1 Samuel 17:38-18:30 3. Protection in the name of the Lord David realised that the best protection was not Saul’s armour but the name of the Lord (17:45). At first, David tried to face Goliath in Saul’s armour. Then he realised, ‘I cannot go in these… because I am not used to them’ (v.39). So he took the armour off. He decided to be himself. This is such a lesson in life. It is no good putting on someone else’s armour. It always looks artificial and unnatural when we try and present ourselves as if we are someone else. There is great power in authenticity. Oscar Wilde said, ‘Be yourself; everyone else is already taken!’ You are at your most effective when you are being yourself. As St Catherine of Siena put it: ‘Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire.’ David had a concern for God’s name and its vindication (v.45). He said to Goliath, ‘You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty’ (v.45). He realised the limitations of human efforts (v.47). He was confident in his God whose name alone is sufficient to strike the strongest person to the ground (v.46). He was prepared to trust in the name of the Lord in the face of enormous opposition. You may face great opposition. The world you live in can seem enormously powerful and overwhelming. You may feel weak and pathetic in contrast. But go out in God’s name – realising your limitations and yet trusting in him to vindicate his name. Because the Lord was with David he was successful in everything he did (18:5,12,14). David’s success provoked anger and jealousy from Saul (vv.8–9). As Joyce Meyer points out, ‘God always puts us around someone who is like sandpaper to smooth off our rough edges… a testing that takes place before we get promoted. If you want to lead you must first serve in circumstances that may not be ideal and learn to behave wisely. This prepares us to be greatly used by God.’ God gave David more success. Interestingly, because of his concern for God’s name, David’s ‘name became well known’ (v.30). But that was not his aim or intention, or the focus of his life. Lord, may the churches in this country be filled again with people worshipping the name of Jesus. I pray that everything we do may be focussed on seeing the name of Jesus lifted up and honoured again in our society. Pippa Adds 1 Samuel 18:1 Friendships are wonderful. David and Jonathan ‘became one in spirit’ – real soulmates. There is something so satisfying about deep friendship. It makes such a difference having the support of loving friends to stand with you in difficult times. And to laugh with you in good times. Friendships are something that will go on forever. In heaven there will be no time restrictions and none of the jealousy with which David had to contend.

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