Via Beatta--the Blessed Way

I 'm not sure why trains bring back Christmas memories for me, but they do. Maybe it came from ads or Marshall Field's window displays. Certainly not from the symbols of Advent or the Nativity!      In the house where we lived when both of my sons were still at home, as soon as the tree was in place and the lights strung on its branches along with the cranberry ropes (wooden ones from Crate &  Barrel, not hand-strung fresh berries), the train tracks would be put together and  arranged in an oval around the tree. It was not a fancy train with lots of accessories, just a simple Lionel with a few cars and caboose--and, of course, a whistle. It was always a lot of trouble, really, because sitting on carpet, the connections between tracks inevitably became loose or a car jumped the tracks rather than doing what it was supposed to do. Nevertheless, the tree was a necessary part of our holiday decorating.      The house was a typical 1920s square, two/three story

I am so grateful for being given the opportunity to take the past six weeks' sabbatical and for the lovely welcome back!      There are so many memories of this brief time and stories to tell about the places I visited, the people I met, and just the plain old time of relaxation without deadlines and undone tasks to worry about.      It may seem like a "busman's holiday," but one of the favorite parts was the ability to attend a variety of church services, mostly as a member of the congregation. It is a rare pleasure when serving a church on most Sunday mornings. This time, I experienced endings: a colleague's final service before moving on to a bishop's position in another diocese; the final service of a church closing after 130 years; and a requiem mass at our cathedral for Bp. Montgomery.   All Saints Chicago's Day of the Dead and Rector's Farewell I was involved in beginnings, too, especially my participation as Dean a