Skip to main content

Ascension School 100th Year First Holy Communion Reunion!


First Holy Communion group photo, 2nd Grade, Ascension School, Portland OR, spring, 1959.  Fr. Bennett (Franciscan) at left.  Sr. Clement, our teacher, not pictured.  Having just made our First Confession, our souls were spotless, all.



The girl I liked (best) is sitting front and center, radiating Innocence, Beauty, Purity, Grace, Intelligence and Faith, (virtues achievable, at such an early age, only by means of proper Catholic indoctrination and the Blessed Sacraments.)  She was a perfect little human being.   As for me, I already knew I was flawed, thinking bad thoughts 30 minutes (or even sooner) after confession, likely doomed to Perdition.

She was smart as a whip! I remember we were in the “high” reading group, 1st grade.  I recall she taught me “the,” a mysterious monosyllable that flouted the simple phonetic rules we had learned up to then.  She showed me I could recognize whole words at a glance without having to sound them out.  During this brief earthy life, and for all eternity to come, I shall never stop loving her.


God bless all you kids, and Sr. Clement and Fr. Bennet!  I am still saying my prayers, (though I confess to a long prayerless period in my feckless youth).  I hope we can all meet again in Heaven, but you may have to wait for me as I sweat it out in Purgatory for a few thousand years.  Me and a kid named Bruce (not pictured; he had been held back and done his 1HC the previous year.  I thought it unfair. Bruce also had a talent for language that was under-appreciated by our conservative educators.   In those days, a kid would be held back (in our view), as much for sinful behavior as for slow learning.  But maybe the nuns knew better.) He taught me my first “nasty words,” the crisp little ones that didn’t come from Latin and thus were sinful to utter.  The very first one I learned from him—I remember it well—was “t*rd.”  He brought me along slowly; I wasn’t ready for “sh*t” and “f*ck” till the next year, 3rd grade.)

How about a 100-year reunion in 2059? Maybe they’ll let me out of Purgatory for the weekend. 




Be Our Ghost!


At the Ascension School

1959 100th Year First Holy Communion 
Reunion!
 April 4-6, 2059 Anno Domini
Theme:  “Too Much Time on Our Hands”
Purgatorians Welcome! 
(Furlough required;  Please apply at least five years in advance, St. Peter’s Office, St.Pete@heaven.cos)
First Loves/Soul Mates also Welcome! (Only one per attendee, please!  Ha ha!)
(Please apply directly to St. Valentine’s Office, St.Val@heaven.cos)
Astral Visit to the Old School!
Latin Mass with Fr. Bennett!  (He promises to keep it under 30 minutes!)
(Subtitles provided)

One-Hour Recess with Kick-ball, Jump-rope and Hop-scotch!
Inspirational Speech by a Major Saint! (TBA)

Live Music with Hell’s Belles!
Raffle for 100-year Purgatory indulgences!
Sign up early!








Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Adventures in Reading Part I: Why I Don't Read Novels Anymore

  February 18, 2022 Something on the Internet recently reminded me that this month marks the Centennial of the publication of the much-celebrated and seldom-read novel Ulysses by James Joyce.   It may have been an article in the New Yorker : “Getting to Yes,” by Merve Emre, an Oxford scholar. [i]   I read the article with an interest that was mixed with a specific nostalgia for the times (twice) that I read Ulysses (lo these many years ago), and a more general nostalgia for the times I read fiction at all.   It seems I don’t read novels anymore and I wonder what happened. The last novel I read was A Gentleman in Moscow by Amor Towles.   According to my “Read (already been read)” [ii] list on Goodreads, I finished it in August, 2020, a year and a half ago. I’m fairly certain that’s the longest novel-free period of my life, at least since I started reading fiction while in junior high school, more than 55 years ago.   I’m wondering now whether to star...
Post a Comment
Read more

Tattered Blue Genes

  Tattered Blue Genes My chromosomes are jumbled up, but I still got twenty-three With genes a-plenty, all mixed up From Ma and Pa, and their Mas and Pas that somehow make up “Me.” Momma had blue eyes, So do I. Daddy had brown eyes; Their genes are why. Sister got the brown eyes, pretty impressive. I got the blue ones; I think they recessive. Talkin’ about brains, it was easy to see I was taller than than them, but uh, They was both smarter than me. I’ve managed to get old, Thru no virtue of my own, Ain’t no denyin’. Just the luck o’ the draw, And I ain’t afraid of dyin’ Just lucky to be here, Got to be this age, Tho’ my powers is declinin’ Natural thing at this stage, so uh, Ain’t no use whinin’.   These genes o’mine will go unsown, All o’ which, I don’t mind sayin’: Sweet bird o’ youth has flown. I’m the last o’ the line Which I find a bit dismayin’. Them other people’s genes will do just fine But my telomeres are...
Post a Comment
Read more

Lost Fragment of Marcus Aurelius

 “On Losing Again in the Tournament” Meditations , Book XXIV, lines 50-62 (My translation) Now again our brave lads lie bleeding and broken on the hardwood, Ridden roughshod over by the implacable foe, Yea, the merciless mercenary host from the East, And abandoned again by the unjust zebra-striped officials. And scorned by the scurrilous scribes. Now, again, our fondest hopes are dashed, Our families and friends cover their faces to hide their shame and grief. Even before the tender buds sprout from the trees, And the crocus and daffodil shoot forth from the wet dirt, Lo, the birds, so unconcerned with the affairs of men, Sing from the branches, searching for mates. So again, as every year, our fondest aspirations lie ruin’d in dust, Therefore, we must compose our hearts and minds, Equanimously to relearn the lesson we have learned every year, But have apparently forgotten, our memories annually befogged by Lethe: O, fellow fans! Why rend your raim...
Post a Comment
Read more