Our Family Pilgrimage to Father Kapaun's Home ~ 7 QT Friday

Hellooooo, Friday!! I've really been missing you guys lately, but just can't seem to figure out how to write and run the mothership at the same time.  Our household has been sick this week, so I'm wearing the nurses hat, too.  Since I'm only walking distance form the local bar (seriously, 2.5 blocks), I may be sneaking out tonight for some nerve tonic!

There are so many things I want to share with you guys in this little space, blog ideas abound. Despite the disorganized, dysfunctional life and the lack of time to write, in honor of Veteran's Day being this past week, I thought it would be a perfect time for me to squeeze in a little 7 Quick Takes about a beautiful excursion I took with the boys a few weeks ago to Pilsen, Kansas, home of Father Emil Kapaun, a chaplain of the Korean War, who died a POW in 1951.

A few years ago, my sister, Sara, and I were chatting on the phone and she couldn't wait to tell me about this wonderful little town, a quaint Czech community just north of Wichita, called Pilsen.  She shared with me the story of Father Emil Kapaun, whose cause for sainthood is currently under investigation.  I was so touched by his story and, after reading "A Shepherd in Combat Boots" (very much worth your time), I couldn't wait to visit Pilsen myself.

I don't know why it took so long for me to make the journey to Father Kapaun's shrine, but I can honestly thank my son, Benedict, for getting me there. He came home after school about a month ago and told me that his class would be making a pilgrimage to Pilsen. I was overjoyed with the news and knew that our whole family had to go. 

Before the news of the pilgrimage, I had been saying a novena to Father Kapaun for two intentions which were very close to my heart. Now, I felt as though I could truly unite my prayers to him in a very concrete way.  The timing was perfect. Don't you love Providence?!

It's an understatement to say that our family was changed by the trip to Pilsen.  From their earliest years, we have taught the boys that the saints, whom we ask often to pray for us, show us, above all, the face of Christ.  They encourage us to choose Christ and to love Him, to seek him out in all circumstances, in all situations. That truth sunk in deep during our trip to Pilsen.

The boys were able to connect with Father Kapaun in so many honest, yet profound ways.  Even Charlie, who stayed with me while I fed Joseph in the cry room during the presentation, didn't speak above a whisper while we were in the church.  All of his orneriness shines right through that grin, though!

(Source)

Father Kapaun, no doubt, will soon be canonized a saint. 

Here are just 7 (of so many) reasons why our boys have come to admire this heroic soul:

1.  He was a small town farm boy, just like our boys.  The rolling tree-lined hills that flank the little community of Pilsen are picturesque.  Visiting there is like going back in time, it seems as though not much has changed since Father Kapaun lived there.  I am sure that the physically demanding work and dedication that the farm demanded during his youth were of great benefit to him during his military service.

2.  He led by example.  Many individuals have come forward with stories about Father Kapaun, and none of them talk about how he preached this our that, but rather how he loved and led by example, always encouraging and looking out for others before himself.

Inside the beautiful, historic St. John Nepomucene Cathlic Church

3.  He was a model of humility.  When we arrived at St. John Nepomucene church we spent the first part of the tour listening to a brief history of Father's life, a life full of details shared by a very warm and articulate woman, whom I could see truly loves Father.  She told story after story of how Father Kapaun saved many POW's from death by caring for their wounds, preserving their dignity by helping them bathe in the river, sharing his rations and praying with them and for them.

4.  He smoked a pipe.  On the outside, it seems to be a thing of little significance, but I think what it really points to is how very natural, how very human Father was, and those who served with him were drawn to this naturalness.  They were ultimately drawn to the person of Christ.

5.  He is the most decorated military chaplain in history.  Story after story is told of Father's bravery on the battle field, risking his life time and time again to attend to the needs of other soldiers.  He was known to run through enemy fire dashing between foxholes to deliver food, water, consolation and prayers to the men in the heat of battle.

6.  He was recently awarded the Medal of Honor, the most distinguished honor to be bestowed upon any soldier, living or deceased.  On the Medal of Honor brochure that was given to us on the pilgrimage, the  following was written about Father Kapaun:

As Chinese Communist forces encircled the battalion, Kapaun moved

fearlessly from foxhole to foxhole under direct enemy fire in order to provide

comfort and reassurance to the outnumbered soldiers.  He repeatedly crawled to 

wounded men and either dragged them back to the safety of the American lines, 

or dug shallow trenches to shield them from enemy fire.  As Chinese forces closed in, 

Kapaun rejected several chances to escape, instead volunteering to stay behind

and care for the wounded.

(Of all the memorabilia we were able to experience in the little museum, Father Kapaun's priestly garments were my most favorite.  Seeing them brought tears to my eyes.)

7.  The three miracles that have been attributed to Father Kapaun thus far have all occurred in the lives of young athletes, a soccer player, a pole vaulter, and a marathon runner.  I don't believe that this is a coincidence.  Their stories really had a great impact on the boys, especially Andrew.  

Three fantastic books on the life of Father Kapaun are:

The Miracle of Father Kapaun

(DVD form)

A Shepherd in Combat Boots

A Saint Among Us (great for kids)

If you really want to make a pilgrimage to Father Kapaun's shrine, our diocese hosts a 70 mile hike from Wichita to Pilsen every spring.  I am hoping to make at least part of the journey this fall with the older boys.  You can learn more about it here.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends.  

Father Kapaun, pray for us!!

 

Apple Picking Adventures - and - A Recipe That will Double Your Love For Fall!

Oh happy fall!! Isn't this time of year glorious?? Several years ago, I read this quote by William Cullen Bryant: 

Autumn, the year's last loveliest smile.

His words seem to capture every pure and perfect joy of the season.  Last week several families from our homeschool group met for apple picking at a local orchard.  When I saw the announcement for the excursion on our Facebook page, I was beyond excited, and couldn't wait to spend a few glorious hours outdoors in nature with the boys.

The day was cool and overcast, even sprinkling at times.  The crisp air and light precipitation made the apples on the trees sparkle, the lanes of deep, dense foliage glow.  Steve and I both noticed that there was a lovely feeling of calm, a sort of gentleness to the orchard that was so inviting and wonderfully relaxing.

The very kind and generous owners of the orchard gave us permission to eat as much as we wanted, which filled the boys with an eagerness to try each and every variety.  We were all very tickled at Charlie, who must have eaten a dozen apples, biting into one after another, juice dripping down the curves of his little chin, and stuffing the cores deep in the pocket of his hoodie.

Oh, sweet innocence!

It was quite a site to stand under the arching branches and look up into the boughs of twigs and leaves weighed down with great masses of fruit.  I loved the way the boys took their time carefully scanning each tree for the perfect piece of deliciousness, then strategically shimmying the apple picker beneath their fruit of choice, tugging gently until it popped off the branch.  Victory!!

A few of the varieties we enjoyed picking and sampling were Braeburn, Pink Lady (very crisp with a tart, lemonade like finish), Gala and our favorite, Criterion.  I had never heard of that variety before. Criterion are green, like a Granny Smith, but sweeter and very crisp and juicy. I wish this variety was available in stores, because I would buy them often.

One of the great highlights of the outing was that Steve was able to come with us.  This is such a rare occasion, as his responsibilities with work don't afford him many daytime opportunities to join us for school events.  

The boys loved having him along, and I did too! Holding Joey for the entire morning, he gave my arms a much needed break, so that I could walk freely along the lanes with the older ones.

As we strolled out of the orchard to the owner's homestead to pay for the apples, Andrew mentioned to me that his experience at the orchard made him want to grow all of his own food, because it would be much more fun than going to the grocery store.  All of the boys chimed in then, and eagerly requesting that Steve and I fill the yard with fruit trees so that they can pick and eat all they want!

We all tried to guess just how many pounds of apples we had picked.  Henry's guess was spot on - twenty pounds!  The owner let little Charlie stand up on the scale, too, which he thought was quite fun.

On the drive home, the boys laid out all of their requests for baking with the apples - pie, muffins, applesauce and most of all our family favorite, Warm Apple Cake with Cinnamon Bourbon Sauce. We make it every year, and always say we should have it more often.  I hope you enjoy the recipe as much as we do!

{Printable Version}

Sauce:

{Recipe adapted from Gooseberry Patch, Backyard Gatherings}

Our Flash Trip to Kansas City For Spring Break - So Much Fun!

It hit me this morning when I opened the door to the family wagon: lingering odors of beef jerky, Dr. Pepper bubble gum and stale coffee.  Remnant reminders of our super-fun, three day spring break getaway. (I know, yum-yum, right? The men tend to get a little Quick Shop crazy when we road trip it.)

When I say getaway, I don't mean long, faraway restful excursions to exotic places, you know the ones where your Christmas card friends without kids make a point to go on at least 3 times a year just so they can share their relaxing, romantic, care-free, stress-free, whine-free photos with you??? What I mean by getaway is anywhere within a 172 mile radius of our front porch.  We've tried 173. It's a no-go. Total failure. With five boys and another set of buns on the way, 172 is actually pushing it.  

Honestly, most days, when I really need a break, calculating the risk vs. reward efforts of taking the boys to Orange Leaf or the zoo is my vacation reality.  I know, you're veins are pulsing with envy right now. 

But, with the recent expansion of my abdominal area, the "in 12 weeks there will be no freedom to go anywhere without an 800 pound diaper bag and spit-up on your shoulder" clock is ticking loudly in my head, and therefore despite my toes being swollen together, I'm hungry for some travel time.  That and enchiladas. This week it's enchiladas.

{Pre-party Charlie, shakin' his vacation shamrock.}

Last weekend, I managed to talk my soul mate into chauffeuring his family to Kansas City for a couple of days.  Everyone voiced their itinerary desires, and we came up with a plan that included swimming at the hotel, eating out at a few of our old faves, taking in the St. Patrick's Day parade, visiting friends, and by mom's request, something educational, which ended up being the National WW1 Memorial Museum.

Here's our reel of stellar pictures, shot by mom, who can't understand why everyone raves about the i-phone's photo capabilities, because she has yet to capture a single moment in a snapshot that isn't extremely underwhelming. You can sympathize, right? I mean, just the thought of packing a baby in the belly and a Nikon on the bosom for three days can trigger contractions, so logically, I settled for underwhelming.

Here we go!...

Zee St. Patty's Day Parade...

Even though I packed green shirts for everyone, I didn't consider the fact that the weather was forecasted to be 45 degrees that day, given the joy that 60 degrees and sunny has been the dominant weather pattern here at home.  Sadly, our St. Pat's spirit is buried beneath those sweats.

To remedy the possibility of us getting pinched all day, dad went all out and bought some bling for everyone from one of the many vendors selling everything from beer mugs to leg-warmers.

I love him for that. And, for my earmuffs... 

...which kept my ears warm and also ever-so-slightly muffled the constant two hour annoyance of Andrew's "spirited" support of the parade:

That is, until my green silencers/warmers were robbed right off my head by Mr. McHenry: 

 ....who is also clearly annoyed by the green horn.  Either that or the glaring sun, which gave us all the squints.  He's clutching an empty coffee cup from the hotel, which he had high hopes of filling with candy, because every parade should have candy throwers, right? Negative. I'm still listening to the groaning saga of the empty cup.

I tried to convince Henry that seeing the Irish dancers, bagpipe corps, and historic Irish family floats would be sweeter than a cup full of candy.  He didn't believe me.  

Maybe that's because 90% of the parade was politicians riding in vintage autos (snore) and row after row of gangster cars fully decked out with shamrock rims, boosting a bass loud enough to drown out my beloved bag-pipes. Grrrr.....

This isn't the parade I remember from our good ol' days of living in Kansas City.  No one was more disappointed in the show than mom, the one who is deeply proud of her Czech-German sauerkraut and stout heritage but secretly wishes she was just a wee bit Irish. So, we took an emotional break from the procession, and went to noon mass at my favorite church, so I could pray for Irish dancers and more bagpipers to miraculously appear.

 After a beautiful feast day mass, we returned to the parade with renewed spirits....

....and made our official departure about 20 minutes later when the boys (and mom) decided that our pathetic little faces could no longer hide such supreme parade disappointment.  The last round of "boom-shaka-laka" dancers and motorcycle gangs sent us over the edge:

 National World War I Museum:

I didn't take many pictures of the boys inside of the museum, because keeping our entourage together in such a huge place took skill and speed.  My skill, Steve's speed.  But, despite the lack of photo ops as proof of what an amazing experience it was to be there, I really can't encourage you enough to visit the memorial if you have the opportunity.  The museum was designed by the same company who created the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C.  Our boys (except for Henry and of course Charlie) all said it was by far the best part of our getaway. 

The quote on the wall says:

The glory of America goes deeper than all the tinsel, goes deeper than the sound of guns and the clash of sabers.  It goes down to the very foundation of those things that have made the spirit of man free, happy and content. ~ Woodrow Wilson

Andrew is looking through a magnifying glass that can be moved vertically as well as horizontally along a sliding track so that patrons may view photos of some of the regiments that were sent overseas from the U.S.

Ben and Andrew were fascinated by the scale of global involvement.  We all kept saying how trying to conceptualize the number of people involved in the war was simply impossible.  This is part of a chart that captured the calculations of soldier deportation by state.  Kansas: 63,428 of the 4,743,826 total U.S. participants.

 

One could easily spend an entire day exploring the museum, but after 2.5 hours, our troops were in need of nourishment.

The unanimous choice: Oklahoma Joe's BBQ.  BBQ is a passionate topic of debate amongst Kansas Citians, and trust me, everyone has an opinion.

 

When KC was home to us, we sampled the fare at nearly every BBQ joint in town, but Oklahoma Joe's clearly won our tummies over.  Those people wrote the BBQ gospel.  Hallelujah, it is gooood!! So, good, we stood in line for 45 minutes anticipating the yumminess!  Your clothes and hair will smell like smoke and sauce afterwards, but it will be totally worth it!

There was but one event that did not get checked off of the itinerar: Legoland.  When we arrived at Crown Center to purchase tickets, the wait to enter was 2 hours.  Not good. The tops of my feet were already swelling over the sides of my ballet flats.  

Thankfully, we encountered another mom who was more than happy to inform us that Legoland just isn't worth the ticket price.  There are no exciting exhibits, interactive games or building competitions. So what do you do there? Build. (Or, buy more Legos - no thank you.) Well, they can build all day in my basement for free.

I was, however, thankful for the Lego statues that entertained Charlie just long enough for me to prop up my puffy peds while the others made 47 trips up and down the escalators.  Charlie was just so cute with this Lego guy, he really couldn't get enough of him...  

 "So nice to meet you, Mr. Lego guy!"

 "Forget the handshake, let's just bring it in for a hug."

"You're so awesome, Lego Guy."

"No, Chuck you're awesome."

"My mom - the one over there with the fat feet - is also awesome."

(Okay, maybe my mind-reading is a little fuzzy, kind of like these pics.)

THE END.