Minister Itinerans, ubi es?

"Where have you been?!" I can hear all of you asking.  Yes, all of you dear faithful readers, otherwise known as search engine crawler bots (and a certain sacristan). Well, the short answer to that is an injury car accident, as well as a heavy course load at university.  Those can tend to keep someone otherwise occupied and distract from the important things of life, such as blogging!

Anyway, here's a quick update of what I have been up to, to be filled in later with actual backdated posts containing details. (Yes, I have kept notes!)  Since August, I have . . .

• Officially switched my parish to St. Francis de Sales Oratory.
• Been in a car accident, sustaining neck, back and wrist injuries which kept me from easily writing, serving or playing the organ.
• Continued to (try to) serve and play the organ anyway.
• Arranged a Missa Solemnis at the Shrine of St. Ferdinand, including training of all major and minor ministers other than the celebrant.
• Arranged a Missa Cantata at the Shrine of St. Joseph.
• Helped arrange a Missa Solemnis for Augustinian Canons, according to their monastic usages of the 1962 Missal.
• Added five new churches to my serving list, bringing the total to 55.
• Done many other liturgical things which may end up in a future post.

To my faithful sacristan reader, and to all of the Google crawlers, thank you for your devotion during these past months!

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Datum S. Ludovici, die XXVII mensis Ianuarii, Dominica III Post Epiphaniam, anno MMXIV.

St. Martin of Tours Catholic Church

Exactly two weeks since my previous new church, to the hour, another has been added to my list!  The young adults group with which I am associated has taken to the road, deciding to meet instead at St. Martin of Tours Catholic Church once per month for its Holy Hour, and being its altar server, I naturally went along.

The meetings begin with a talk, but so that the church will be ready in time I normally am compelled to skip it in favour of preparing for the Holy Hour.  I had assistance this time, however, from one of the clergy of the parish -- very helpful!  Yet, of course, there were bound to be problems.

As we prepared the thurible (one of those "standard" one-chain varieties), I recounted to him a story from years past where the bottom once fell off during the incensation at Mass.  The charcoal being lighted, he kept it in hand swinging it for airflow, as I positioned the stand off to the Gospel side of the altar.  Just standing there, minding my own business!  "Look out!" I hear, and before I can react, the bottom half of a broken thurible comes whizzing by me, followed by a cloud of burning charcoal.

Finally realising what had happened, my first reaction, naturally, was not, "Am I okay?" but rather, "Are my vestments okay?" It literally brushed my leg, leaving a trail of dust on my cassock, but amazingly (and thankfully) there were no burn marks to be found!  My near-death experience of the day being over, we got back to work, amused of the coincidental timing.

Next, a commentary on the art of organ improvisation. As we processed into the church for Adoration, the organist began an improvised processional, transitioning into O Salutaris as Father approached the tabernacle.  We were all ready to begin singing, when . . . Father turned and walked off the altar back into the sacristy, returning a moment later with the tabernacle key.  A feigned start, you might say.  This left the organist, however, having to reverse the transition on the fly, improvise for another moment, and then retransition upon Father's return.  "What does this have to do with altar serving?" you ask.  Essentially nothing, but, I am also an organist, so I found it interesting enough to merit a comment.

Adoration itself went very well, and I even had an assistant in the form of a new member, who is a parishioner there and regular server, as well as, coincidentally, a classmate of mine.

One last thing of note is that, afterwards as we chatted in the sacristy, one of the clerics (the same who almost set me on fire beforehand) was chatting with me about — go figure — non-Roman Latin Rite liturgies, and casually said, "My favourite though is the Sarum Use.  I used to serve as Master of Ceremonies regularly for those Masses."  Can you picture the way a dog's eyes light up when a piece of meat is dangled above its head?  Well, that was me!  Apparently, a group in Washington D.C. celebrates the Sarum Use regularly, under the theory that, being a former Royal colony, the Rite proper to New England is the Sarum Use.  This is the theory I have promoted myself for years . . . but never before have I heard someone else hold it.  Quite exciting!

Speaking of dogs, did I mention the dog?  The church is connected directly to the rectory, and as we finished cleaning up, the pastor's dog wandered in, and then into the church.  No further comment!

As a final note, my church count now stands at 52.  Now, if you will excuse me, I must shop for airline tickets to D.C. . . .  
 
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Datum S. Ludovici, die XV mensis Septembris, in festo Septem Dolorum Beatae Mariae Virginis, anno MMXIII.

Shrine of St. Ferdinand

This post was written significantly late, months after the actual event, due to an interruption in writing resulting from a car accident.  Therefore, the quality and accuracy of details and quotations, although given to the best of my abilities, may be reduced.

One never knows when a new serving opportunity will suddenly present itself!  As I set at my desk late Tuesday morning, working on the handout for an upcoming Missa Cantata at the Shrine of St. Joseph, my phone decided to ring.  Since normally when my phone rings it means that someone is calling me, I looked, and found it to be a priest whom I have met a handful of times in the past.  "Hello Steven.  I know you know a lot about the rubrics of the Mass, so perhaps you will be able to help.  On Thursday evening we will be having a Solemn First Mass of a newly ordained priest at the Old St. Ferdinand Shrine,  but the deacon and subdeacon have never served a First Mass before, the archpriest is unsure of his role, and the servers have never served a Latin Mass before.  Do you think you could meet us tomorrow for training?"  A pretty standard request, right?

Of course, being quite excited I agreed, and immediately got to work preparing myself.  The first step, of course, is something which anyone in such a position would do: send a distress signal to St. Francis de Sales Oratory requesting immediate help!  Next, abandoning my work on the handout, I devoted myself to reading and committing to memory Fr. Fortescue's Ceremonies of the Roman Rite Described, well into the night, with any questions I had being directed towards the ever-gracious sacristan at the Oratory (who, being my only reader, must be given flattery!)

For convenience, we met for training at the Oratory of Ss. Gregory and Augustine, which is closer for most of those involved than the Shrine.  An altar is an altar, right?  Well, kinda, but the smaller sanctuary with only one altar step certainly affected the training.  As we waited for all of the clergy to arrive, we again did what any normal people would do: stand in the vestibule chatting, with one of the priests donning an Optimus Prime helmet and light sabre which just happened to be sitting around.  Perfectly normal!

Once the training finally began it was pretty straight forward, with a well-trained priest instructing the major clergy and me the servers, with considerable overlap . . . which itself is the most striking part.  When a question arose (or even when one didn't), the assisting priest would turn to me for concurrence or my opinion, before continuing.  As a layman, to be in a position of instruction over clergy, and looked upon by the same as a competent authority over the liturgy, is quite an amazing experience!

At the end of training, the priests and I went to lunch, chatting of course about many liturgical topics, including a conversation about the intrigue over a large batch of liturgical emails I had sent earlier that year, for a special series of Masses I arranged (but have not written about . . . yet.  Someday, perhaps!)  Then, I hurried off to an unrelated meeting with the auxiliary bishop of St. Louis.  (All in a day's work, right?)

Identifying at the training what items would be necessary to bring along for the Mass, on Thursday I set to work arranging for them.  We needed altar cards and intonation cards for the chants, so I obtained my standard golden, jewel-encrusted set from the museum (because everyone has access to such items, right?) and set to work creating intonation cards, which I had printed on heavy cardstock.  These were quickly put to use, replacing the "basic" ones which had been made already by someone else.

Arriving at the church, my first destination (after saying a few prayers, of course) naturally was the sacristy, where all of the servers and clergy were gathering.  I had no function in the Mass itself, yet I was hoping to beg my way into sitting in choir.  In the sacristy I noticed the servers hanging their vestments on free-standing candelabra, so I hung my vestment bag along with them.  Always one to make a good first impression, of course, my bag off-balanced it, and the two-hundred-year-old candelabrum toppled over straight into a glass cabinet housing historical vestments, losing its branches in the process.  Amazingly the glass did not break, so we servers quickly reassembled the candelabrum and then acted as if nothing had ever happened.  Phew.

When the Master of Ceremonies for the Mass arrived (who had not been at the training), I sought him out for begging.  "Would it be okay if I sat in choir with the clergy for the Mass?" I asked, expecting to be shot down.  "No!" he shot back, but then clarified, "I need you to be my second M.C.!"  Suddenly revitalised, we now set to work discussing rubrics between each other and dividing our tasks, in a way quite similar to the previous day.  He would have charge over the major clergy, and I would have charge over the archpriest, servers, and choir.  Since the archpriest's bench would be in the normal M.C.'s spot the M.C. would have to stand across from him, and my spot as "second M.C." would be wedged between the sedilia, bench, and the wall, perfectly accessible through a tiny gap between them all.

Now, since things could not, of course, remain this simple, my phone then decided to ring again as we are preparing for Mass, and this time it was the chaplain of St. Mary of Victories Chapel, who himself was preparing for his own special Missa Cantata at the Chapel of the Eternal Father.  Originally I was supposed to have served this Mass, but requested leave to assist with the Missa Solemnis instead, given its complexity (and my own desire).  He was fine with that, but as they were setting up they ran into their own issues, and called me for help.  Thus, with my mind perfectly free from other distractions and in the ideal state for conjuring up old, obscure memories, the question was posed: "Last time we had Mass here there was a book on their bookshelf which you said had the English readings for the Mass in it.  Do you remember what it was?" " . . . Umm . . . "  So, after a few minutes of intensive thinking and guessing, I had to admit my ignorance and, feeling bad, got back to my preparations.

The Mass finally beginning at 19:00, we processed around the church and in through the main doors, to the ringing of the tower bell.  We had no organist (since the only one available happened to be second M.C.), but had a schola made up entirely of clergy who stood around a music stand in the centre of the aisle.  The liturgical choir went to their pews, and the rest of us up to the (rather crowded) sanctuary, and, having no better place to go, I simply kneeled to the left of the clergy for the prayers.  Mass flowed reasonably well from here, with the major clergy making only minor mistakes.  Although I had charge of the minor clergy, I still strayed occasionally over to correct the major clergy when necessary, but mostly focused on the archpriest and extra clergy.  What quickly became evident, however, was how little of the instructions from the previous day had been retained by the choir.  Therefore, most of my attention was given to directing them, in the pews, from the sanctuary, as to when to sit and stand.  Of the choir only one priest knew the proper rubrics, but as a priest he sat behind the rest and therefore was unseen by them.  Alas.

Now for some interpretation of what "having charge over" a cleric can mean.  As the clergy sat for the Gradual, being in my cramped corner, I had a wonderful view of the archpriest, enough so that I noticed a mosquito on his neck, unbeknownst to him.  Thus began Operation "Dispel the Mosquito Without Distracting the Archpriest, Other Clergy, or Faithful (of Which There Were Very Few)", otherwise known as Operation DMWDAOCF(WTWVF), which ultimately was successful, albeit far too late to spare the archpriest.

(Note, there are probably many more details of the actual Mass which I have forgotten -- see note at the top -- but by now I am amazed that you are still following along!)

Mass having ended, we took some photos, cleaned up the church, and then went to the hall for refreshments.  At the end as the others left, the priests of the Shrine and I went back to the church to finish cleaning, and along the way the pastor made a very striking comment: "Can you believe the servers were hanging their vestments on the two-hundred-year-old candlebra?  What barbarians!"  To which all I could say was, "Oh yes, how barbaric . . . ," along with an awkward chuckle.

Thus, the church count now stands at 51. 

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Datum S. Ludovici, die XXIX mensis Iulii, in festo S. Marthae Virginis, anno MMXIV.

Three new churches

In an unusual flurry of activity, another three churches have now been added to my list!

Thursday, 1 August
The first church was St. Francis Xavier Catholic Church, the collegial church of Saint Louis University.   I happened to be in that area and stopped into the church for a minute before its 17:15 Mass, but noticed there was no server.  So when the priest arrived I volunteered, but instead his reply was, "Well, thank you for the offer, but I'm not the priest saying Mass."  Back to my pew I go, covertly awaiting the next priest so that I could make my move.  But by 15 minutes after Mass was to start, there was still no priest!  As the people began to become discouraged and leave, the first priest decided to step up and fill in, so in the end I was able both to lector and serve.  "You were very prophetic with your offer," he said to me, after the Mass.

It is not exactly a new church for my list, as I have lectored there once in the past, but now it can move to the "served" list from the "lectored-but-not-served" list (a fine distinction, I know), leaving only one church now on that list, St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church . . . in Cookeville, Tennessee.  Some day!  Some day.
 
Thursday, 8 August
The second church was Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church, a regular parish church, and the story behind it is equally regular.  I decided to go for 8:00 morning Mass, with vestments in tow (as is my custom when attending a church outside of my circuit).  Observing that the usual servers were not present, I volunteered myself, and Father accepted.  Mass was served, all went well.  +1!

Saturday, 17 August
The third church was the chapel of the White House Retreat Centre, a retreat centre south of St. Louis run by the Jesuits.  This one has a bit of a story behind it.

The occasion was a weekend retreat for the Spirit & Truth young adults group at St. Bernadette's Catholic Church.  For months it was preparing*, but I was the only member not to register.  I was happy to join them for the liturgies, but lacked interest in the retreat itself.  For months we debated it, with them saying I may not unless I come to the whole retreat (in hopes of convincing me to sign up, of course), but I held firm, and ultimately gave up on the idea.  A shame, not an unavoidable one, so I put it out of my mind.  But then the night of the retreat, I receive a text message: "Our server is AWOL, can you come serve Mass in the morning?"  I was in!

I still served 8:00 Mass at St. Mary of Victories Chapel, but since the retreat's Mass was at 11:00, I stayed in church for a while as I waited.  Father left in the meantime.  I had my schedule planned perfectly: stay and pray until 10:15, then stop for a quick breakfast and arrive around 10:50.  Which sounds good, until I go to leave and discover the door dead-bolted.  (Just three weeks prior I was locked out of church needing to get in; now, I was needing to get out but locked in!)  As the time ticked by, I made phonecall upon phonecall attempting to find someone who had a key, and finally got out at 10:26.  Doing the maths, that then put my arrival time at . . . 11:01.

I decide to grab breakfast to-go and eat it later to save time, but, as may be expected in any story in which someone is running late, there had to be a traffic jam on the way.  Arriving finally at 11:10, totally frazzled, I run into the church to find . . . everyone still praying quietly, and the priests hearing confessions.  Very anticlimactic.  So I make my way to the sacristy, vest, and prepare and eat my breakfast (in that order).  Each priest in turn enters the sacristy, does a double take, and then questions, "Are you not receiving Communion?"  "No," I respond, munching on my bagel.  Then one follows up, ". . . do you need to go to Confession?"  A very generous offer . . . but also quite awkward!


Mass itself went well, with a Benedictine altar arrangement, Latin ordinary and Communion along the altar step, kneeling.  The chalice was dressed with a veil and burse (the very same ones mentioned in my previous post), and it was my duty at the Offertory to undress it.  Having been intensely studying the rubrics for it just a few days prior, I had it down to a science, and it was nice to have a chance to practice.  But in the meantime the other server (who in the end did show up) comes with the ciborium, so I take the veil to the Epistle-side to fold it . . . which is where he went with the ciborium, leading to a near-collision, and totally negating the precision and reverence seen in preparing the chalice.  Oh well.

Another nice aspect of being there for part of the retreat was that all events were announced by the tower bell, and being on hand, I was summoned as the "expert bell ringer" to do the honours!  That being said, I was only welcome for lunch and afternoon recreation, and then left when the actual retreat continued.


So now, my count stands at 50 total, or 49 with the exception mentioned supra.  Yes, 50!  I had been attempting to make my 50^th be a special upcoming Mass (wait for it in mid-September), but letting it be a speical Mass with friends works nicely, too.

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Datum S. Ludovici, die XVI mensis Augusti, in festo S. Zephirini Papae et Martyris, anno MMXIII.

*If this phrasing confuses you, I would encourage you to familiarise yourself with the English passival.

Indian Liturgicals

Another round of beautiful vestments has arrived!  This time, it was an order from Catholic Liturgicals of Chennai, India.  They were shipped on Monday, and by this morning at 9:20, they were at my door.  Across the world in three days; even the second time, I am still very impressed!

Contained within: a lace alb, black maniple, green stole, and two white chalice veils and burses.

As you can see: alb, maniple, stole and . . . one chalice veil and burse.  Oops.  Hope to be able to resolve that, but the items which did arrive are very beautiful, and very nice quality!

You might ask, "What do you need all of these random items for?"  To which I would reply, "Why are you using a dangling preposition?"  But looking past your grammatical fault, I would then explain that the items, similar to the previous order, are for various churches of the area which requested them.
 
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Mass heard: 08:00, Blessed Sacrament; 17:15, St. Francis Xavier
Datum S. Ludovici, die XVI mensis Augusti, in festo S. Zephirini Papae et Martyris, anno MMXIII.

New churches of July

True to my duty as an itinerant altar server, over these past two weeks I was able to add three new churches to my list, each with its own story!

Saturday, 13 July
The first church of the three is not a "church" at all, but rather the chapel of the local house of the Sisters of Mercy.  Being a friend with one of the sisters, I was invited to come join them for morning Mass and breakfast.  Really, the story is as simple as that.  The celebrant was Fr. Horn, rector of Kenrick-Glennon Seminary. The Mass went smoothly, with a mix of Latin and English responses accompanied by organ.  The only mishap was when Father, seeing the sisters assembled and ready,  decided to start Mass early and signalled the organist to start playing -- not realising that I had not yet finished vesting!  But if that is the worst of the problems then the Mass went well, right?  The breakfast which followed was delicious (bacon, waffles, and fruit), and the company of the sisters and Father was wonderful!

(Yes, I did summarise it in only one paragraph.  Hard to believe, I know!)

Sunday, 21 July
The second church is Little Flower Catholic Church, which has a weekly Extraordinary Form Mass at 9:15.  As a family we decided to go, and as an itinerant altar server I decided to insert myself into the sacristy and attempt to serve.  I was received with gracious confusion, as they tried to figure out if they needed me, and over the span of a few moments my assignment varied from "we are fine, thanks anyway" to "can you be thurifer?" until finally setting on "you can be boat bearer".

The Mass itself was a Missa Cantata, but the rubrics were implemented quite differently than they are at other churches with which I am familiar, so I spent most of the Mass "winging" it, a technique I described in a previous post.  My station was "in the sacristy" with the thurifer, from whence we would emerge (through different doors each time) when needed at the altar, and then after the Canon, "in the pews" with the laity (whilst still in vestments), with reception of Holy Communion at the altar rail.
 

In a way, I feel as if I were more of a hindrance to their routine than a help . . . but they were thankful anyway.

Saturday, 28 July
The third church comes prefaced with a story.  My normal routine is to serve an 8:00 private Mass at St. Mary of Victories Chapel, but due to an incorrectly set clock at church, I showed up to find Father just finishing Mass, instead of preparing to begin.  After a brief dialogue I jumped in my car and hurried across town to St. Francis de Sales Oratory,in hopes of making it on time for their 8:00 Mass, but to no avail.  Determining I was still "on time enough" to receive Holy Communion, I stayed for Mass, but decided I would go elsewhere to hear an additional full Mass.  Consulting my mental matrix of Mass schedules, I realised that my only reasonable option was to go to 9:30 Mass at St. Alphonsus Liguori "Rock" Catholic Church (so titled since it is exteriorly built entirely of stone, including the spire), home of the Redemptorists.

I have been to this Mass in the past, and normally there are only a handful of laity in attendance, and it is in a small chapel of the rectory.  However upon arriving around 9:00, I came across a crowd of people waiting outside the door, and upon enquiry, I found that I had stumbled across a special pilgrimage group visiting the church for the Year of Faith indulgence, and that the Mass would be in the main church.  Having nothing to lose, I grabbed my vestments and waited in the sacristy until Father arrived, who then consented to letting me serve (whilst also asking quizzically how I came to be associated with the group, since I was probably 50 years younger than any of its members).

    The Mass itself was . . . interesting.  There was ample conversation, and the Mass just kind of fit in-between it.  Parts of the Mass were said from the altar, parts from the sedilia, and parts from down in the pews . . . leaving me having to chase Father through the church, whilst still finding proper places to situate myself.  Then came the Canon.  Everything was going smoothly, until right at the Hanc Igitur, when suddenly the familiar sound of the AT&T Ringtone sounded out in the sanctuary, since Father had forgotten to silence his cell phone!  He kept going as if nothing were happening, but I mused afterwards that it was the most interesting Sanctus bell I had ever heard!  (To his credit though, the Mass largely stuck close to the rubrics.)

    After Mass when most everyone had left, I remained to finish my server duties.  Returning to the sacristy with the cruets, I was unable to find the piscina and so figured I would find a plant to serve the purpose.  Opening the sacristy door labelled with a large, "Do not lock" sign, I spy a plant right off to the side and step out to pour out the cruet, and then upon returning discover the sign was a lie.  "No big deal," I figure, "I can just go back through the main door of church."  Also locked.  So now here I am, in a bad neighbourhood, standing outside in my lace vestments, car keys locked inside the church, holding an empty water cruet.  Alas.  Having no other options, I followed the pilgrim group, in vestments, to their breakfast reception, and eventually tracked down a staff member with a key.

    One final, neat fact about the church is that they have a major relic of St. Abundantius, a fourth century Roman martyr, enshrined in one of their side altars.  Apparently it came from the 19th century when it was given to them as a stipend for a mission, by a parish too poor to afford the normal stipend.  Such interesting stories old parishes have!

So with those three, my count now stands at 48 total, having served at 46 locations and lectored-but-not-served in 2.

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Datum S. Ludovici, die XVI mensis Augusti, in festo S. Joachim Confessoris, anno MMXIII.

Buy me some peanuts . . .

One of the essential jobs of an itinerant altar server is to branch out into other churches.  Whilst I have served at many in the area, near and far, one which I have not served at is actually right in my own area!  But opportunities have a way of presenting themselves.

The church was Holy Trinity Catholic Church, and the occasion was a funeral for a family friend (God rest her soul).  Having no altar servers from the parish available, I was invited to serve.

Serving at a new church is always an interesting experience.  For an Extraordinary Form Mass, you have to examine the sanctuary to see where all of the essential items are, identify any issues you might have with kneeling or moving, clarify particular rubrical variations with the priest (bell ringing patterns, optional prayers, etc.) and then coordinate these with any other servers.  However, it becomes greatly complicated when it is an Ordinary Form Mass, because so much of the rite itself is non-standardised and dependent on the particular church.  So unless given specific instructions, a large part of first-time serving is staying on your toes and, keeping the rubrics in mind at all times, being able to wing it based on your surroundings.

Normally everyone else will know what they are doing, easing the job of "winging" it.  However, things were different this time.  Firstly, because it was a funeral Mass, the rubrics are different and people are less familiar with them.  This would still be okay, except in this case, both the priest and the deacon were visiting from other parishes!  Combined with lectors and "Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion" from the funeral party . . . not a single person there was "familiar" with how the parish normally did things.  (In fact, I may have been the most familiar, since I have heard Mass there a few times in the past.)

That being said, the Mass actually went pretty smoothly.  Some glitches here and there, but since the three of us (priest, deacon and myself) generally knew what we were doing, we made it work out.  All the way until the end of Mass, at which point . . . things got wacky.

Fast forward to the Commendation prayers at the end of Mass.  After two long eulogies, we processed to the casket, where I stood at the end of it holding the "Crucifix" (though actually a "Resurrectifix", i.e. a cross with the risen Christ on it).  Prayers are going along normally, with incense and all, but then the priest paused and said, "Next, we're going to do something a little unorthodox . . . ," immediately putting my mind on red-alert, but keeping my composure, I watched with nervous concern as one of the pall-bearers stood to make an announcement . . . and then started to unbutton his shirt.  "This . . . can't end well."

"In honour of so-and-so, who was one of the biggest Cardinals fans [a baseball team in St. Louis], all of us pall-bearers are wearing Cardinals t-shirts under our suits!"  prompting laughter from the congregation.  Not so bad, I guess, but then he continued, "and in her honour, I would like to ask everyone now to stand and sing Take Me Out to the Ballgame, cheer, and then hug each other!"

So, picture the contrast: an altar server, dressed in lace vestments, standing solemnly in line for procession . . . surrounded by a group of shouting baseball fans.  All I could do, of course, was to stay still, ignore it and wait for it to pass . . . a feat which was complicated during the "hugging" segment when someone started grabbing at my vestments.  (Their intentions were good, anyway . . . )

Afterwards I took time to practise on their pipe organ, which turned into a recital for the parish staff and organist.  I was playing Michel Corrette's Grand Chœur avec Tonnerre (sans a plank) when he came in, and it took a lot of courage to conclude it in his presence, since the last measure calls for you to lean your entire hand on the keyboard so as to hit every note, very loudly and discordantly.

A very interesting funeral for sure, but having given me now a forty-fifth church in which I have served, it was an exciting opportunity regardless.

In your charity, please say a prayer for the repose of her soul.
 
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Mass heard: 07:30, National Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows; 10:00, Holy Trinity
Serving streak: 4 days
Datum S. Ludovici, die XII mensis Iulii, in festo S. Joannis Gualberti Abbatis, anno MMXIII.