Celebrating Halloween and All Saints’ Day
Halloween’s roots lie in an ancient pagan festival for the dead. While this autumn feast can be used for evil purposes, our culture celebrates it as an innocent night of begging and fun.
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Halloween’s roots lie in an ancient pagan festival for the dead. While this autumn feast can be used for evil purposes, our culture celebrates it as an innocent night of begging and fun.
The true origins of Halloween lie with the ancient Celtic tribes who lived in Ireland, Scotland, Wales and Brittany. For the Celts, November 1 marked the beginning of a new year and the coming of winter.
Reflect Every October, the colors orange and black seem to be ubiquitous. Images of skeletons and black cats pop up in stores and on neighbors’
Catholic bishops in South Korea expressed sorrow and offered prayers after more than 150 people died in a stampede during Halloween celebrations in Seoul. They also called for a detailed investigation to identify the cause of the incident.
Once the weather gets nice, there’s not a day that goes by when our street isn’t filled with kids. We live on a cul-de-sac and our circle is the playground for the entire neighborhood. It is also the gathering place for the moms.
Nobody likes to wait, and yet waiting is a part of life. We wait at the DMV or the grocery store checkout, in line at the post office to mail Christmas packages, for an appointment, a diagnosis, a resolution, a solution, an opportunity, the light at the end of the tunnel, a birth, a death.
“Wait for it….” It’s a popular phrase along pop-culture landscapes. The problem is nobody likes to wait, and yet waiting is a part of life.
We wait at the DMV or the grocery store checkout, in line at the post office to mail Christmas packages, for an appointment, a diagnosis, a resolution, a solution, an opportunity, the light at the end of the tunnel, a birth, a death.
Each year on the Day of the Dead, the typically somber setting of a cemetery is transformed into a festive and colorful place of honor and remembrance of departed loved ones.
On Ash Wednesday at St. Peter’s in the Loop in the heart of Chicago, 20,000 people will begin their Lenten journey.
Outside in my garden is a statue of Saint Francis, patron saint of animals and the environment. I also have a few items depicting Saint Fiacre, the patron of gardeners. But if you were to ask me who the real patron saint of my garden is, I would have to say that it’s my Aunt Ellie.
Now mind you, I have no delusions that my Aunt Ellie will ever be canonized a saint. Nor will most of the people I so dearly love. But when I’m looking for inspiration, consolation, answers or support, those are the people to whom I most often turn.
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