Nancy Carabio Belanger's Blog

Impatient Perennials and a Book Review of The Gate

Time flies, and here it is, already April. Lent has passed and was hopefully fruitful for you, and now we share our Easter joy. In my neck of the woods, we have rain, which is nourishing the grass, trees, wildlife, and tiny green plants I see peeking out of the ground. They need to wait a bit, because here in Michigan we are still looking at flurries in our forecast! But I am as impatient as they are! I almost want to tell them to be patient. It's almost like the waiting of Lent and Advent. In my own life, I am patiently waiting for certain things to happen, but all in God's good time. He knows what is best and His timing is perfect.

I am happy to share this book review of The Gate from blogger and Catholic author Anabelle Hazard, who writes at Catholicstand.com and her personal blog, Written by the Finger of God, at Anabellehazard.blogspot.com. Following the book review on Catholic Stand is an interview she conducted with me. You can find the entire article, including interview, here at the Catholic Stand website:

http://www.catholicstand.com/book-rev...




“A children’s story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good book in the slightest”-- C.S. Lewis

Nancy Carabio Belanger’s latest novel “The Gate” passes the Lewis test. It is a Catholic novel about Joshua Lasko, a smart-alecky middle school boy, whose faith disappears at his father’s death. He meets Pie, a nursing home resident, and his life turns around into a whopping surprise.

I’ve long trusted Ms. Belanger’s writing since she penned “Olivia and the Little Way” and its sequel “Olivia’s Gift.“ Both books are eternal favorites of my ten-year daughter since she first read it; curl-tipped edges from over reading, and often quoted back to me. When “The Gate” came out, I was not sure it would resonate with the female readers (including myself) in our house, but I’m glad I was wrong.

“The Gate” was delightful for several reasons. The character of Joshua is as real as a middle school student in America can be; witty and smart as a whip. Pie is endearing, and somewhat stubborn if not grumpy. Their unexpected friendship is something I envy as I wish I had known and gotten to know all my grandparents the same way.

The Gate’s biggest gift is the unabashed Catholicism and truth of Holy Mother, which is stapled in the dialogue and the story, just as much as it is ingrained in any Catholic’s life (or should be). All without being sappy. More power to Ms. Belanger who dares to write for Catholic readers who long to be able to connect with a literary figure and are so unfortunately neglected in a secular publishing world. For those of you who enjoy a good, clean, warm read, pick up “The Gate” and get to know unforgettable characters about a story of two souls.

The only improvement I can suggest to “The Gate” is for a better designed cover. The muted illustration is impeccable, but the title and the author’s name, could be more than a simple black font. Since Ms. Belanger is now synonymous with good, quality Catholic YA fiction, I think her name deserves to be highlighted in bolder billing and can stand on its own as a brand.

A Little Catholic Sunshine

Brrr....it's so cold out here in Michigan that venturing outside is a feat. Boots, my longest, warmest parka, hat, gloves, scarf. Just to go get the mail at the end of our driveway! Imagine my irritation when I finally get there and find out the mail hasn't come yet! Trudge back up the icy driveway (very carefully) to take it all off, one by one, in the laundry room, which is quickly becoming a mud room! Now I know where the name originated.

It can be pretty difficult to stay focused on the positives and count our blessings in these extreme, dangerous temperatures when we're all cooped up inside and dreaming of Florida (which I hear is pretty cold right about now) and spring. But thankful we must be. For warm clothes, central heat, and an oven with a piping-hot lasagna in it. A fat and soft kitty I can shove my cold feet under and he doesn't mind or hop off the couch. Cozy family movie nights while wrapped in warm blankets with popcorn. A coffee pot that delivers my morning java. And I am thankful to God for all of these blessings, believe me. One story in the local newspaper about a family who has no heat and is using a space heater to keep her and her children warm makes you shut your complaining mouth pretty quickly.

But then there are moments...You forget that you are one of millions going through the same thing. You slip and slide all over the road and you scowl at your filthy car, covered in dirty snow and salt. (Yes, I'm thankful for road salt)! My boots seem to be leaking. School is constantly cancelled, pipes are freezing. Our windows are drafty, and you can't even have your eyeballs exposed in these dangerous negative wind chills. This winter seems so looooooooong. IS IT OVER YET?

A whitening snow squall happened to pass through the Target parking lot yesterday morning as I was inside looking at hand lotion for my very dry skin and looking for someplace to escape the winter doldrums.

"Mom, look outside!" I heard a young lady say to her mother in awe. My head jerked up to see Old Man Winter blast its fury. I shook my head, sighed, and put a small bottle into my red cart. Just another day in Michigan.

A cashier named Barb scanned my lotion, shampoo and oatmeal.

"I heard it's pretty bad out there," she said. I nodded.

"I think people are going to go crazy with this weather," she joked. "They're going to go running around in the streets saying, 'I can't take this anymore!'"

I laughed at the absurdity, then remembered the latest local newspaper headline that read Enough Already! Michiganders' sentiments exactly. Maybe Barb wasn't joking after all! We've all had ENOUGH!

It was then that I noticed she was wearing a beautiful gold medal. I leaned in for a closer look.

"Blessed Mother?" I asked her.

Her face lit up in surprise. "Yes!"

I pulled out my own chain I wear around my neck and showed her my Miraculous Medal and St. Therese medal. We smiled at each other, a little Catholic connection at the Target checkout. You don't get too many of those. It's not that there aren't enough Catholics out there beyond our parish doors. There's something like a billion Catholics worldwide. It's just that not too many people like to visibly wear it on their sleeves (or around their necks), I guess. Barb told me she has a special devotion to St. Therese, another thing we have in common.

"Blessed Mother will never fail you," she said with a look of love on her face.

"That's for certain," I said as I put my wallet back into my purse. We chatted a bit more and I felt my mood lift.

"God bless you," Barb said, as she handed me my receipt.

I smiled back at her and said, "God bless you."

I perked up as I walked outside to the parking lot. The squall had passed as quickly as it had come. The Holy Spirit had sent me a warm moment with a complete stranger. Barb had filled my soul with a little Catholic sunshine.

A Different Kind of Story

It's funny how things happen. God puts a book on a writer's heart and she trusts in the Holy Spirit and does what He asks. Never dreaming it would happen again, she thanks Him for having her write Olivia and the Little Way and goes about the business of living her life. Then one day, God gives her another inspiration, to write a pro-life, pro-modesty sequel to the book, and Olivia's Gift becomes a reality. As teachers, parents, and young readers write her to encourage her to write more Olivia books, she prays on it and wonders what God will have her do next. She takes out a notebook and begins to jot down ideas for a third Olivia book.

Thinking this is where God wants to lead her next, she does what she normally does when a new book idea is born: she prays and wonders about the many book ideas that knock about in her head, competing for space and time. Oh, if only she could write several books at once! But she knows God didn't make her that way; that multitasking is not one of her strong suits.

One day, she and her family visit a priest friend of theirs. As they visit and chat, she tells him of the various book ideas that she has. She tells him she's thinking God wants her to write a third Olivia book, how she wants to continue to reach Catholic youths with her writing.

Father gets a serious, pensive look on his face and tells her something that is burned on her brain, to this very day.

"In Confessions, more and more I'm seeing a pattern."

"A pattern?" she asks.

He nods. "Especially with young people. They feel so sad, like there is no hope for the future."

He leaves it at that.

The author goes to daily Mass to pray about many things, thinking of what the priest had said. As she waits for Mass to start, she wonders what she can do about it, these young kids who feel alone, who feel that God is far away. How can she help them see that God will never leave them, no matter what pressures they face, no matter what evil surrounds them?

Minutes tick by, and soon it is apparent that the visiting priest is not showing up. Apparently he is from out of town and cannot find the church. She stares at the priest's empty chair up on the altar and the thought suddenly comes to her that this could be the future of her parish, of many parishes: empty chairs, no priests. No one to give the Sacraments to these youths her priest friend mentioned, the precious souls God loves so very much. She is frozen with shock at the thought.

"God, what can I do about it?" she wants to know.

"Go and write," He tells her.

"Write what?" she asks, perplexed. "I don't understand."

She figures it's another Olivia book, but God tells her, "Yes, but not yet. Write this one first."

"I really think it should be an Olivia book," she tells God. "That's what people expect of me."

"Yes, but right now I want The Gate," He tells her.

She is obedient. It takes her two years to write. She prays for the young souls who will read it. She asks her saint friends to pray that this book will reach them. St. Therese, St. John Bosco, and St. Pio are called on day and night for these young souls.

Some people are thrilled her book is about a boy. "That's what we need!" they say.

Others are confused. They want another Olivia book.

"It will come," she promises. "I had to write this one first."

"Why?" they ask.

"It's this feeling I had," she answers. "Experiences that led up to it. A whisper from God in my ear. This one has to come now."

Several people read it before it goes to print.

"I like it a lot. But we wanted Olivia," one says.

"I know," she answers. "And I still do, too. Olivia will be back."

"It's different," another says. "I was expecting Olivia."

The author laughs to herself, thinking So was I.

The Gate, which will go to press next week, God willing, is not an Olivia book. It is different. But sometimes different is okay, is it not? Sometimes authors feel called to write many different things. Maybe one day it will be poetry. Perhaps a screenplay. Who knows? Well, God knows. He always knows.

The author does what He tells her to do, in His own Perfect Timing. She writes a different type of story. It is not about Olivia and it is not about St. Therese. It is funny, it is sad, it is symbolic. It is reverent, it is faithful to Church teaching, it is moral. The character is 13 years old; he's a bit older than Olivia. But it is a wholesome story, a faith-filled story, and you can trust this author with your children.

A reader emails her a note that astounds her. "I LOVE it. I cried, Nancy. This book will save a soul."

The author feels a tear slip down her cheek when she reads this.

God willing, that's all she ever wanted.