As a scholar of literature, I find rich meaning in Mary's engagement with her Book, but I can't help mourn the disappearance of the spindle. While Mary's reading calls our minds to the invisible work of the Spirit as we hear the Word, her spindle affirms that the Incarnation transforms the daily work of our hands into worship -- work with eternal consequences.
They also weave, with gentle art, Those stronger nets that bind the heart.
Partly work and partly play You must on St. Distaffs Day: From the plough soon free your team; Then cane home and fother them: If the maids a-spinning go, Burn the flax and fire the tow. Bring in pails of water then, Let the maids bewash the men. Give St. Distaff' all the right: Then… Continue reading Texts & Textiles: St. Distaff’s Day
The work of our heads, hearts, and hands can become lamps we hold aloft for Christ, lighting our way to the feast He will call--at any moment--for us to join.
I want to celebrate the legend of a skilled, courageous woman who trusted in her God more than in the power of man.
The play of childhood so often becomes the work of adulthood, and Larsson's painting reminds us of this hopeful truth.
Get the distaff ready, and the Lord will send the flax. This traditional proverb, which I first encountered as a teen reading Louisa May Alcott's Jo's Boys, is an example of a saying which once illustrated its wisdom with everyday experiences, but which is now more or less opaque. A distaff is a tool used… Continue reading Texts & Textiles: Traditional Proverb
"And if the serpent comes again / to tempt with secret truths, /hold fast your crafts, / in them you'll find a better mystery."