Review: Fatima

Francisco, Jacinta, and Lucia

Marco Pontecorvo’s film, Fatima, tells the story of three Portuguese children who, over the course of many months in 1917, encounter the Angel of Peace and the Blessed Virgin Mary in visions. These visions change them, their families, and ultimately, the world.

The cinematography is beautiful, the visions striking, but it is the relationships that are most engaging.

Lucia’s mother, pious and generous, grieves for her son away at war, creating a family dynamic heart-wrenching to watch. Pilgrims overrun the fields and ruin crops. The town leadership, powerless to stop the crowds coming to see the young visionaries, imprison the children to get them to recant.

The children, 10-year old Lucia and her younger cousins, Jacinta and Francisco, refuse the appeals of their parents, their priest, and finally, the strong arming of civil authorities that bring in a psychiatrist to no avail. The strength of their conviction — their obedience to the Blessed Mother’s urging to pray the rosary fervently — soon has the whole town on their knees in prayer.

The conceit to tell the story in flashback as a mature Sister Lucia converses with a writer grounds the events surrounding these visions in contemporary times. While I was not alive at the time of the Miracle of the Sun. I was alive during the last years of Sister Lucia’s life. Perhaps these glimpses of the older Lucia move the audience to accept — to believe — the story, but one need only to see how the townspeople and subsequently the thousands of pilgrims respond to the children.

Lucia understands the gravity of the Blessed Mother’s message and displays a maturity beyond her years. Sweet Jacinta joyfully shares Mary’s messages, but it is in Francisco that I find a connection. He sees what is happening and yearns to hear — to fully understand — but can’t. Don’t we all feel like that sometimes?

I’m also moved by the desperation of the people who descend upon this small village and the children, touching them, showing them mementos of their loved ones. In such desperate times as war, these people find hope in the innocence of children and the powerful messages from the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Fatima has inspired me to read more about the young saints, and the message from Fatima, and to pray my rosary more fervently.

Our Lady of Fatima, pray for us! Amen.

grateful mornings

sunrise

Watching the sun rise across the bay never gets old. Each morning is unique, affected by the weather and the time of year. Red and purple sunrises. Orange and hazy sunrises. Golden hues against deep blue skies.

Every morning is a poem in God’s palette. The sunrise is a moment of grace that explodes with hope: the gift of a new day to be lived to the fullest.

I love the sounds of early morning. First, the silence, and then the birdsong as the world around me wakes up. There’s something about dawn that sets the mood for the rest of my day. I’m struck by the beauty of the rising sun, but more than that, it inspires in me a sense of gratitude in anticipation of the day.

Even on days when I wake up dreading the challenges I’ll face, that moment of wonder when the first ray explodes on the horizon inspires hope for the miracles that await.

Do One Thing

 a to-do list with one thing
do one thing

One thing keeps me going in the endless battle of tasks that make up my day during this shut down: doing one thing — from start to finish.

I arrived at this life hack late in life. It’s really just an attitude adjustment, and oh! how I could have used this approach years ago when my children were little and and needed my attention, and dinner was on the stove, and laundry was overflowing, and the floor needed mopping, and…and…and….

I STRUGGLE WITH BEING ORGANIZED AND TIDY

Back then I prioritized and moved on to the next important thing. The kids got settled. Dinner was served relatively on time. We had clean clothes, if sometimes a little wrinkled. And the floors? I plead the Fifth.

Fast forward to today. I’m enjoying what many people would call a slower pace. That’s true. But time seems to have turned in on itself during this pandemic and isolation. For some crazy reason, we’ve given ourselves the charge to produce! produce! produce!

I can’t. I’m distracted by fears and the isolation of self-distancing. I’m overwhelmed by the need to sanitize and disinfect.

I still have a long list of tasks. Housework needs to get done. Dinners need to be made. Chores are like shampoo: rinse and repeat. But the daily list started choking me with the unreasonable expectations I placed on myself, and I wondered how I had gotten everything done when I was younger.

The truth is I didn’t get everything done. Not even close. But I got enough done. I regret that younger me wasn’t consoled by that. Present me, however, sees the victory in accomplishing one thing in a day and calling it a win.

I’ve thrown out the list — everything on it is already a habit. Either I do it or I don’t. Ignoring some things is also a habit. Instead, I identify one thing that I want to accomplish today. Laundry? Ok. Clean out the fridge? OK! Make a doctor’s appointment? Yes!!! Mop the floors? Begrudgingly …ok.

FEELING ACCOMPLISHED

It’s not a surprise that the harder the task, the greater the satisfaction. I haven’t written a novel or trained for a marathon, but I’m grateful for a neat garage and a cleared desk where I can write a novel, perhaps one page at a time.

My days are still busy with the tasks that keep a household running, but I don’t fret over it. I endeavor to get one thing done. Besides making my bed in the morning, it’s the one thing that keeps me organized, and maybe, when this is all over, I’ll have made a good habit to keep.

How are you coping these days?

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