Its a rainy day here in Boston, MA and I just left Mass on this 4th Sunday of Lent. I was thinking as I held Sophia next to me under the umbrella while the rain came angrily from the side, that rain is such a beautiful thing.
We live in a pretty dirty city, it smells and trash sits piled on corners and it ditches, but the rain helps to wash it all away. The rain has a cleansing effect on this great city and although we find it an annoyance, we should give thanks for it.
Having just left St. Cecilia's, I couldn't help but draw the parallel and find the divine humor in a terenchal down pour cleansing the city, as the season of Lent cleanses so for Easter to come.
In Baptism, water cleanses us and for these 40 wonderful days we remember the healing power of Christ and prepare ourselves for the saving work he accomplished on the Cross.
Monday, January 17, 2011
My brother's blog on Cuba
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Cuban Curse
She burns a hole in my head like a lost lover.
Can’t stop thinking of her and her people.
I am cursed by images of stagnant towns where men and women pedal old-style bicycles
And the grillas drawn by boney mares who await their feed.
The blacksmith puts on horseshoes with hanger wire for nails.
The young people sit and think of what is not to come.
Hope is on hold.
We visit as if visiting a prison.
They cannot leave nor even talk about it.
Yet you know that is all that they hope for.
Highways empty with a mixture of the old and the new.
A 57 Chevy ambles along at 45 while we cruise in a rental at 80.
I am ashamed of what little I have done
and hope that our people do not see and God will forgive.
What to write, what to say to them.
How to help.
I think of Valladares and Lino and Emy.
Not to mention all those great men and women who gave their lives
Or at least endangered them in the name of freedom
My father and sisters among them.
Am I cursed?
Posted by Mel Suarez
Cuban Curse
She burns a hole in my head like a lost lover.
Can’t stop thinking of her and her people.
I am cursed by images of stagnant towns where men and women pedal old-style bicycles
And the grillas drawn by boney mares who await their feed.
The blacksmith puts on horseshoes with hanger wire for nails.
The young people sit and think of what is not to come.
Hope is on hold.
We visit as if visiting a prison.
They cannot leave nor even talk about it.
Yet you know that is all that they hope for.
Highways empty with a mixture of the old and the new.
A 57 Chevy ambles along at 45 while we cruise in a rental at 80.
I am ashamed of what little I have done
and hope that our people do not see and God will forgive.
What to write, what to say to them.
How to help.
I think of Valladares and Lino and Emy.
Not to mention all those great men and women who gave their lives
Or at least endangered them in the name of freedom
My father and sisters among them.
Am I cursed?
Posted by Mel Suarez
The Story that must be Told
"My Cuba: a visit to Cuba"
by
Manuel Ignacio Suarez-Gaston Carreno Segerra de la Casa de Suarez, Castile de norte Espana. Padres Manuel Antonio Suarez-Carreno y Eloise Gaston de la famosa familia Melchor Gaston
The story of Manny Suarez’s revisit to Cuba after 50 years (1961-2010) with his "grande hijos que como mucho" Brandon Hagen Suarez-Wentz y Austin Lee Suarez-Wentz con Americano Amigo y "hermano" fuerte Estaban Cusinos (Steve Kitchens.)
the body wants sleep , but
the mind will not let it
too many stories
too many ideas
so little time
for what purpose ?
i do not know
but I must tell my story
My Cuba
by
Manuel Ignacio Suarez-Gaston Carreno Segerra de la Casa de Suarez, Castile de norte Espana. Padres Manuel Antonio Suarez-Carreno y Eloise Gaston de la famosa familia Melchor Gaston
The story of Manny Suarez’s revisit to Cuba after 50 years (1961-2010) with his "grande hijos que como mucho" Brandon Hagen Suarez-Wentz y Austin Lee Suarez-Wentz con Americano Amigo y "hermano" fuerte Estaban Cusinos (Steve Kitchens.)
the body wants sleep , but
the mind will not let it
too many stories
too many ideas
so little time
for what purpose ?
i do not know
but I must tell my story
My Cuba
The Boy
In the end,
a boy in "prison" (Cuba) gets a little gift from his friends from the US...who, every time they arrive, they kick him out of his room and make him sleep in the Laundry room
a boy who is an angel
a boy I watched sleeping while I cried and thought of my two own boys....my own boys who I kissed every night and thank God for such miracles
a boy who wakes up 5 minutes earlier to see his dad, who waits for him outside the house because he is no longer welcomed inside the house
a boy with two school friends playing computer games like Billions of children around the world....the world is really Flat
a boy that wants to learn how to do puzzles and also dance
a boy who does not know why the State tells him what he must become
a boy that hugs visitors who drink his milk and eat his honey
a boy who sees his mother do everything and anything to help him succeed in the system given to her by Batista, by Fidel, by the CIA and by Russia
a boy that touched my heart and I hope to see on TV or live someday dance to the most beautiful music the world
a strong boy, a smart boy, a beautiful boy of God....an angel from heaven
a boy very much like my two boys
a boy in "prison" (Cuba) gets a little gift from his friends from the US...who, every time they arrive, they kick him out of his room and make him sleep in the Laundry room
a boy who is an angel
a boy I watched sleeping while I cried and thought of my two own boys....my own boys who I kissed every night and thank God for such miracles
a boy who wakes up 5 minutes earlier to see his dad, who waits for him outside the house because he is no longer welcomed inside the house
a boy with two school friends playing computer games like Billions of children around the world....the world is really Flat
a boy that wants to learn how to do puzzles and also dance
a boy who does not know why the State tells him what he must become
a boy that hugs visitors who drink his milk and eat his honey
a boy who sees his mother do everything and anything to help him succeed in the system given to her by Batista, by Fidel, by the CIA and by Russia
a boy that touched my heart and I hope to see on TV or live someday dance to the most beautiful music the world
a strong boy, a smart boy, a beautiful boy of God....an angel from heaven
a boy very much like my two boys
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