The Catechism by candlelight

We in Des Moines, who have experienced the double luxuries of normal temperatures and no new snow lately, have been hit the last couple of days by a new form of winter suffering: the ice storm. Freezing rains have turned sidewalks and streets into what hockey rinks would be if instead of Zambonis laying down a smooth, even surface, water fell in uneven patterns from the ceiling and froze wherever a strong wind happened to blow it. We've gone from place to place, in other words, across a lumpy hockey rink, upon which would be even more impossible to skate on than it is to walk.

The trees, our mailboxes, our windshields, and everything else have been covered in a sheet of ice sometimes three quarters of an inch thick. Last night Saint Mary was plunged into darkness about an hour and a half before Confirmation class began when the ice which coats the power lines finally brought the critical one down. The lights didn't go on again until a little after nine thirty. So we had Confirmation class the old fashioned way: by candlelight.

It went surprisingly well. The kids had done a good job (as usual) memorizing their Catechism assignment, and I was really the only one with even a minimal need for my eyes in any case (to keep track of our place in the Catechism). It was an interesting taste of what our forebears must have gone through whenever they met in the evening- although they probably didn't have to make do with the two candles on the altar and- lit inappropriately, but understandably- the Paschal candle.

But on the other hand, maybe given the use to which it was being put, lighting the Paschal candle wasn't so inappropriate after all.