Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
One tradition I never have difficulty keeping is having last minute preparations to do on Christmas Eve. Try as I might, I am never quite ready by December 24. This year I am close, though. Today I decided to bake more cookies than I had originally intended to make.

My daughter was in the dining room, sewing away. Christmas music sung by Cambridge College's King's Choir played in the background. (We both missed other CD's that are packed away or given to someone else. The Cambridge choir is technically perfect, but as my daughter said, lacks energy and enthusiasm. Eventually we turned it off.)

I pulled out my standard Christmas recipes, handed down from my grandmother to my mother to me. Ginger snaps were the first. As I worked in mom's kitchen I remembered decades of Christmases when the house filled with sweet spicy smells of ginger cookies baking. I don't think a more tasty breakfast exists than one of ginger snaps and tea. Read More 

Life does not always provide opportunities to thank those who have made a difference in our lives, but when it does, the moment is one of grace. Last week I had the pleasure of welcoming into my home my high school Latin teacher who was in town for a class reunion.

The last time I had seen Louanna, she was called Sr. John Martha and wore the habit of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. More than love of Latin drew me back to visit Louanna during my first year of college. She had introduced me to the classics and through them to discussions of ageless themes that thread through human existence: friendship, suffering, faithfulness, old age, morality, common good, conflict, power, and the corruption that often attends it.  Read More 

ALL PHOTOS: Mary van Balen
Shortly after an interview with a journalist from The Catholic Times about blogging, I fought the urge to call him back with another comment about the advantages to blogging: It took me out for a walk in a summer rain.

I used to walk in the rain often. Whether the drops were heavy, soaking through my thick hair to drip down my face or were more like a mist settling on the surface of my mane like shining drops caught in a spider's web, I relished the openness to what nature had to offer.  Read More 

PHOTOS: Mary van Balen
While helping me clean my old house, a friend asked if I would miss it when I moved. There are plenty of things I will not miss: non-stop noisy traffic, a one-person kitchen that managed to hold four or five people when the children and I were baking or we hosted a party, and a narrow hallway with four doors that all opened into each other. Of course, all homes have drawbacks.

As I stopped cleaning for a moment and considered her question, a number of thoughts came to mind.  Read More 

"I think October is a month of reminiscing," a friend of mine said yesterday after we shared some laughter over memories of a backpacking trip I had taken across western Europe. I wasn't sure how the topic had come up and said so.
"There is something about this time of year that leads us to sit back and remember. I don't know what it is, but I do believe that."

I think she is right. Perhaps the October tendency to muse out loud has to do with our agrarian past. After the harvest had been gathered and winter cold was yet to come, our ancestors could savor the fruits of their hard work.

Then there are smells. They can transport us in an instant to an experience from the past, Fall air carries its own set: decaying plants, fallen leaves, and smoke from burning wood; sweet aromas of apples, hot chocolate, and cider; the smell of new books, packed lunches, and newly sharpened pencils.

Or could the tilt of the earth and its path around our fiery star that bathe everything in autumn's softer light encourage our eyes to linger and our thoughts to wander?

Maybe the clear, dark skies that show off stars and the bright, white moon at night make those who gaze into it thoughtful as they become aware again of their small footprint in the vastness of creation.

Even in a world far removed from one in which people used position of heavenly bodies rather than digital readouts to tell the time and order their days, nature's deep, enduring power seeps through barriers of glass and steel, and overloaded schedules. It stirs our souls and sends memories floating to consciousness.

October is a delicious time to savor. And that reminds me of making pies from butternut squash we grew in the garden instead of pumpkin that comes in a can. Read More