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On Pilgrimage by Dorothy Day/Foreward - Catholic Worker odds & ends
January 22nd, 2017
04:48 pm

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On Pilgrimage by Dorothy Day/Foreward
"All ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord."  This is the refrain of the three young men who opposed (by non-violent resistance) the ruler Nabuchcodonoser and were thrown in the fiery furnace. But the fire became as a refreshing wind breathing upon them, and their ordeal became a time of joy, and they lifted up their hearts in exalted praise and blessed God. The song they sang is one which made an early appeal to me from the time I first heard it in a little Episcopalian church in Chicago on 35th Street and Cottage Grove Avenue, until this very day.

I have spent happy hours during this past year with Beckie and Suzie in a wicker rocking chair, in front of a fire in the kitchen of an old farm house down in West Virginia, singing our morning prayers: "All ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord. Oh ye ice and snow, oh ye cold and wind, oh ye winter and summer, oh ye trees in the woods, oh ye fire in the stove, oh ye Bechie and Suzie and Eric, bless ye the Lord!  Praise Him and exalt Him above all forever."

It is a song with infinite variations. You can include the neighbors' cows and horses; the Hennessey goats and chickens; all the human beings for miles around. You can draw in all those in the Catholic Worker movement, scattered throughout the country, all the readers of the paper, all the people on the breadlines.

I sang this song with exultation as a child, as a young mother, and now I am singing it as a grandmother And it's in the missal if anyone wishes to sing it after Mass, to himself,  or to children of his own.

You can make up the tune as well as add to the words, and the Lord does not mind, nor do the three youths who first composed the song. What are we here for anyway except to praise Him, to adore Him and to thank Him.

So, dear God, let this book praise You too, and all the work of my hands, whether it is breadbaking or writing. It is a woman's book, and for women, and I may repeat myself, bu mothers always do that to be heard, I have talked about many things, and many things are implied. it is not a true journal, but written from month to month in the midst of much toil. But it deals with things of concern to us all, the family, the home, how to live, with what to live and what we live by. There are accounts of New York, West Virginia, Pennsylvania----I have strayed no farther this year, and it deals with the humble people of these places, and the things which concern them.  I pray God to bless the book and you who read it.

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