Clucking in Church

We walked into the chapel at TAC for a look and a prayer.  There was one student kneeling in a pew, and the three of us, T, L and I, instinctively sat on the other side so as not to disturb her.  We chose a pew in the Catholic way...not too close, but not too far, and knelt for our own silent prayers....

I think I heard the other person leave.

Suddenly, in the quiet of that place, I got an urge.  Oh, I tried to suppress it, I really did, but the desire grew in my mind.  In that very silent space, hearing nothing but the sound of my silly mind, I had the urge to make a clucking sound with my tongue...you know,  just to test the acoustics.  I am sure you will all be happy to hear...

I resisted.

Suddenly, next to me (and I won't say which of my offspring it was who did it), I heard a "cluck."

The chapel has great acoustics.

Angelic guardians of the acoustics.

I hope the confessionals are soundproofed.

On Lewis and Librarians

As a child, I spent a good deal of time in the Brighton Branch of the Boston Public Library.  It was (and still is) a "modern" building, built in 1969 to replace a venerable old brownstone.  The link above includes a slideshow of the old facility and its patrons, as well as still photos of the new facility, with a teen cafe-style lounge, and reading nook (and I note that the old interior photos always seem to include folks reading books, whereas the new photos show no patrons...odd).  I can't help but think the older building had a charm and warmth that I never felt in the newer one.  Still, the children's librarian was cheery, and I soon discovered that she had a special place in her heart for C. S. Lewis.  

I had discovered Lewis in 2nd grade, under the influence of a young teacher who came in as a maternity replacement halfway through the school year.  My school was a public school, so she never mentioned any Christian themes in the Chronicles of Narnia as she read them aloud to the class.  After that introduction, I read them and reread them over again, always thinking there was some message just out of reach.  A few years later, while sitting in the library's children's reading room, I overheard some of the 6th graders from the local parochial school asking the librarian for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.  Somehow in the conversation I overheard  her say the name "Jesus" and the whole message dawned on me.  How could I have been so dense?  

Imagine my delight, then, when visiting the library at Thomas Aquinas College last week, and seeing a well-stocked Lewis section.

L immediately reached for the books she so loves.  We looked at the covers of older editions of his works, and tried to find which were the oldest copies.  It's a book thing, I guess.  T, meanwhile, was reading through his first assignment, which was Lewis' essay, "Learning in Wartime."

As we left, we passed the checkout desk to pay for a book (they were having a discard sale) that L picked up on Danish literature.  We were delighted to find this admonition:

A bit later in the day we were back in the library for a tour with the librarian, the very amazing and enthusiastic Viltus Jatulis.  L whispered to me (it was a library, after all) that it would be worth going to TAC just to enjoy her company in the library.  High praise.  I wish I had taken a video of her presentation and tour of the rare book collection; her tour should be on the TAC website so students get an idea of the kind of place this really is--a place where learning is cherished.  I could spend years in that room alone, perusing the medieval manuscripts!