Mary C.M. Phillips's Blog, page 12
December 16, 2016
The Spirit of the Season
Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.
He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!
– Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
May the Spirit of the Season Bring You Peace and Gladness
Scrooge was better than his word. He did it all, and infinitely more; and to Tiny Tim, who did not die, he was a second father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man, as the good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough, in the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in him, but he let them laugh, and little heeded them; for he was wise enough to know that nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the outset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have the malady in less attractive forms. His own heart laughed: and that was quite enough for him.
He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God Bless Us, Every One!
– Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol
October 15, 2016
Charlotte Brontë Exhibition
Last week, I visited The Morgan Library and Museum to view Charlotte Brontë: An Independent Will, an exhibit celebrating the two-hundredth anniversary of Brontë’s birth in 1816.
I thought I’d share a few photos…
To the right are tiny handmade books made by Anne Brontë; executed in perfect microscopic penmanship. The little book on the left is all of an inch or so in length. Very, very sweet. One would think it had been written by a fairy.
Below is Branwell Brontë’s well-known painting of his sisters.
Bramwell died tragically before Emily, Anne, and Charlotte.
The painting has faded but has also revealed…
If you look closely (within what looks like a white column), you can faintly see Branwell. He painted over his self portrait (between Anne and Emily).
This makes the painting all the more heartbreaking…and a bit eerie.
And below is a darling mini-portrait by Charlotte of her teenage sister, Anne. My photo doesn’t do it justice as the colors are so rich and the tone of her skin so pretty.
This is just a tiny taste of what you’ll encounter at the exhibit as there is so much more (such as a handwritten copy of Jane Eyre and The Professor).
So, if you’re in New York…go.
Charlotte Brontë: An Independent Will runs through January 2, 2017.
I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.
– Charlotte Brontë
October 6, 2016
National Poetry Day – Edna St. Vincent Millay
Thou canst not move across the grass
But my quick eyes will see Thee pass,
Nor speak, however silently,
But my hushed voice will answer Thee.
I know the path that tells Thy way
Through the cool eve of every day;
God, I can push the grass apart
And lay my finger on Thy heart!
The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,—
No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.
— Excerpt from Renascence by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1917)
September 15, 2016
August 23, 2016
The Power of Gratitude
I grew up reading Norman Vincent Peale’s The Power of Positive Thinking. 
Peale’s words helped to shape my worldview (for the better) and I’m grateful that I found the book when I did.
One of my friends once told me that “gratitude is the highest form of prayer.” I believe that.
Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Power of Gratitude is in bookstores today (and available wherever books are sold).
One of my stories is included in the book. It’s a story that reminds us to be grateful for the simple blessings of peace and safety.
I wish you (and the world) both.
July 28, 2016
July 17, 2016
June 19, 2016
Alcott, Thoreau, Emerson, and Fairies
In 1854, a young Louisa May Alcott dedicated Flower Fables to her good friend, Ellen Emerson (daughter of Ralph Waldo Emerson).
Amos Bronson Alcott (Louisa’s father), Emerson, and Henry David Thoreau were all close friends and naturalists.
Thoreau would often guide the young Alcott sisters around Waldon Pond (which he affectionately named Fairyland), exploring nature, picking berries…living deliberately.
Louisa’s communion with nature is evident in this little book of flowers and fairies and Thoreau certainly was instrumental in developing Louisa’s imagination: “Cobwebs,” he said, “are actually fairy handkerchiefs.”
Below is an excerpt in which Violet (the little fairy heroine) begs the Frost King to show mercy on her flower friends:
“O King of blight and sorrow, send me not away till I have brought back the light and joy that will make your dark home bright and beautiful again. Let me call back to the desolate gardens the fair forms that are gone, and their soft voices blessing you will bring to your breast a never failing joy. Cast by your icy crown and sceptre, and let the sunlight of love fall softly on your heart.
“Then will the earth bloom again in all its beauty, and your dim eyes will rest only on fair forms, while music shall sound through these dreary halls, and the love of grateful hearts be yours. Have pity on the gentle flower-spirits, and do not doom them to an early death, when they might bloom in fadeless beauty, making us wiser by their gentle teachings, and the earth brighter by their lovely forms. These fair flowers, with the prayers of all Fairy Land, I lay before you; O send me not away till they are answered.”
And with tears falling thick and fast upon their tender leaves, Violet laid the wreath at his feet, while the golden light grew ever brighter as it fell upon the little form so humbly kneeling there.
The courage of these little fairies is a foreshadowing trait I recognize in her later work. Whether in the magical realism of little fairies or the reality of Little Women, the combination of sweetness and bravery shine through.
