Making ashes was quite the success. I'm thinking I'll post a complete how-to later, in a separate post. Right now I just have two notes.
First, if you search the internet on how to turn palms into ashes, you may run across a nifty little instruction set that includes two different spots where you can say some prayers if you like. Let me be the first to warn you that you are dealing with fire. Fire doesn't say "your eyes are closed, you must be talking to God, I should wait before I bug you." Fire just says, "IMMA BURN HERE NOW NO OVER HERE WHOOOOSSSSHHHH!!!!" Even if you keep your eyes open to pray, be alert to the fire. And do have a pitcher of water handy. I didn't have to use mine, but it made me feel better to be holding it. Like a teddy bear for nightmares, or a vacuum cleaner for centipedes.
Second, I can't seem to get away from the smell. It's not bad, but it's not good, either. It's kind of like... woodsmoke times infinity minus the promise of food. And it's in everything I was wearing, and apparently in my soul, because even though I showered, put on fresh pajamas, and am as far from the clothes and the door to the porch (where I burned), I still smell it. (Probably doesn't help that I was sitting in the direct path of the smoke for most of the experience.)
PS: Bonus points to who can name the hymn from the title and/or where I learned that eyes closed = talking to God. (Two different answers)
2 comments:
I think it's called "Ashes," yes? 'We rise again from ashes, to make the world... something...'
And I remember a Catholic Digest story about how prayer is hands & knees & words, but not eyes. Hmm.
Can't help with the hymn, but if Mom's eyes are closed in church, don't talk to her!
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