Of the true history of St. George very little is known. when we turn to the few accurate and early accounts which have come down to us, we find that there are two claimants to the title. According to the generally accepted version, St. George was born at Lydda about the year 270 A.D., and was martyred at Nicomedia in 303.
The world, we are told, was made especially for man—a presumption not supported by all the facts. A numerous class of men are painfully astonished whenever they find anything, living or dead, in all God’s universe, which they cannot eat or render in some way what they call useful to themselves.
Jesus, as a mother you gather your people to you:
you are gentle with us like a mother with her children.
In your love and tenderness, remake us.
I do not know why so many of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances have something to do with food, but they do. It happens twice in Luke—first on the road to Emmaus, where Jesus is made known to two of his disciples in the breaking of the bread, and then later, when he appears to them all and eats a piece of broiled fish in their presence.
There is a great deal said today in favour of the Vikings, and an impression exists that they were either fellow-Europeans looking for new trade outlets or well-meaning tourists with long hair who sometimes roughed up the natives. Whatever the hindsight of history has to say about them, the chroniclers of the times were unanimous in their view of them as mad, bad and dangerous to know.
For what else do the words “Do you love me? Feed my sheep” mean than if it were said, If you love me, do not think of feeding yourself but feed my sheep as mine and not as your own. Seek my glory in them, and not your own; my dominion, and not yours; my gain, and not yours. Otherwise, you might be found in the fellowship of those who belong to the perilous times,
I didn’t know where I was going, but I headed south and ended up at the Bosque del Apache. When I got out there, the light was turning to evening. I drove out to one of the dikes, and then pulled over and parked. None of the fancy birds were left: the sandhill cranes were gone as well as the snow geese. But there were red-winged blackbirds, Canada geese, and ducks, making their soft sounds.
The traditional Mohawk greeting of She:kon, skennenkowa ken literally translates into English as “Do you still have the Great Peace?” Most Mohawk speakers shorten the phrase, using “She:kon,” pronounced “say-go,” as slang for “hello.”
At. St. Philomena, Father Damien . . . looked out over his flock. They dressed as finely as they could in their circumstances, the men in white shirts and the women in flowing holokus, wrapped around the waist with folds of colorful cloth. Garlands of flowers encircled their necks or were worm as bands on broad-brimmed hats. The bouquets served double duty. . . . Skin eruptions gave off an odor even beneath fresh bandages.
After Jim Crow, there were separate cars for colored people and white people. And there were Pullmans, which colored people could ride if they had enough money, but most of us didn’t. Anyway, the Pullman was for interstate travel only, and most Negroes were taking local trains. When Papa [Henry Beard Delany] became a bishop, he occasionally was encouraged by a friendly conductor to take the Pullman instead of the Jim Crow car. But Papa would say no. He would be amiable about it, though.