A Trip Down Memory Lane

St. Benedict Abbey and Academy

This is the church I grew up attending. I actually lived about 1/2 a mile down the road from it. As I was contemplating writing this post, the title My Home Church came to mind. Then I realized that I guess it's not my home church because it is not the parish I belong to now. But then I decided that it is where I feel most comfortable and it will always be my home church.

Along with this church is a boy's boarding school for high school students. Area boys also attend as day students. This is where Craig attended high school. I can remember how hard it was dropping him off the first few months. But then, over time, he grew to love it (I think).

I spent the majority of the day there last weekend because this is the church where Craig and Becca were married.  I spent the all day there today and will be back there tomorrow morning because I am attending a retreat there.

When I enter the garden where this shrine is (an acre or larger) an inner peace falls over me. It happens every time--no matter how often I am there. The garden has a big gazebo that holds two big swings and a couple of fish ponds with outdoor chairs and benches placed strategically throughout.  The students are not allowed in this area. It is reserved for the priests and brothers of the Abbey and guests.

 

This is the bell tower. I can't tell you how tall it is but my dad probably could. He worked on laying the rock on this church and worked on the bell tower.  My mom tells the story of having to come and get him for a family emergency and it seemed like it took him forever to get down. I just think of how awesome it is that my dad helped to build this landmark. (I guess I didn't get my fear of heights from him.)

Of course, when I was growing up, we didn't have air conditioning. So we slept with our windows open during the summer. We did have an attic fan to pull cool in in on us. But the thing I miss the most from growing up is hearing the church bells toll. The bells ring on the hour and each quarter hour. We were used to them so they didn't keep us awake, but were a comfort if we woke up in the middle of the night.

I can remember one night, I woke up because I could hear the fire alarm going off. (The Abbey also had the only area fire truck.) I got up and went outside to see what was going on. My mom heard me go out the door and got up to see what I was doing. Part of the abbey was on fire so I stood there and watched the flames until I couldn't see them anymore. But I remember my mom fussing at me for going outside . . . she said someone could get me. I never even considered this because it was a small town, we lived a half a mile off the highway, and it was a safe place.

Great memories and a relaxing day.

Happy snipping, stitching, and quilting!