When I left you last month, Pope Gregory had just offered to absolve me from my vow of strict poverty. I told him "Holy Father, I crave for absolution of my sins but I desire not to be absolved from the obligation of following Jesus Christ".
     My heroic unworldliness filled the pope with admiration, as his letters to me, still existant, bear eloquent witness, and he so far gave ways to my views as to grant me on 17 September 1228, the celebrated "Privilegium Paupertatis". The original autograph copy of this unique "Privilege"-the first one ever sought for, or issued by the Holy See- is preserved in the archive at
Santa Chira in Assisi. It grants (in part) to "our beloved daughters in Christ Clare and the other handmaids of Christ, since you have asked for it, we confirm by apostolic favour your resolution of the loftiest poverty and by the authority of these present letters grant that you may not be constrained by anyone to receive possessions."
     In 1215, much against my will, I had been made Superior at San Damiano by St. Francis, and continued to rule there as abbess until my death, in 1253, nearly forty years later. There is no good reason to believe that I ever once went beyond the boundaries of San Damiano during all that time. This is why so few details of my life in the Cloister "hidden with Christ in God, have come down to you. I became a living copy of the poverty, the humility, and the mortification of St. Francis; that I had a special devotion to the Holy Eucharist, and that in order to increase my love for Christ crucified, I learned by heart the Office of the Passion composed by St. Francis, and that during the time that remained to me after devotional exercises, I engaged in manual labour.
    Under my guidance,the community of San Damiano became the sanctuary of every virtue, a very nursery of saints. I had the consolation not only of seeing my younger sister Beatrix, my mother Ortolana, and my faithful aunt Bianca follow Agnes into the order, but also of witnessing the foundation of monasteries of Clares far and wide throughout Europe.  Not the least important part of my work was the aid and encouragement I gave St. Francis. It was to me he turned when in doubt, and it was me who urged him to continue his mission to the people at a time when he thought his vocation lay rather in a life of contemplation.
 When in an attack of blindness and illness, St. Francis came for the last time to visit San Damiano, I erected a little wattle hut for him in an olive grove close to the monastery, and it was here that he composed his glorious "Canticle of the Sun". After St.
Francis's death the procession which accompanied his remains from the Porziuncula to the town stopped on the way
at San Damiano in order that I and my daughters might venerate the pierced hands and feet of him who had formed them to the love of Christ crucified - - a pathetic scene which Giotto has commented in one of his loveliest frescoes.
     So far as I was concerned, St. Francis was always living and nothing is, perhaps, more striking in my after-life than my unswerving loyalty to the ideals of the "Poverello" and the jealous care with which I clung to his rule and teaching. In 1234, the army of Frederick II was devastating the valley of Spoleto, the soldiers, preparatory to an assault upon Assisi, scaled the walls of San Damiano by night, spreading terror among the community. I calmly rose from my sick bed, took the ciborium from the
little chapel adjoining my cell and proceeded to face the invaders at an open window against which they had placed a
ladder. As I raised the Blessed Sacrament on high the soldiers who were about to enter our monastery fell backward as if dazzled, and the others behind them took flight. It is with reference to this incident that I am generally represented in art bearing a ciborium.  Some time later, a larger force returned to storm Assisi. I gathered my daughters about me, knelt with them in earnest prayer that the town might be spared. A furious storm arose and caused such panic that the soldiers once again took refuge in flight.
    On my last Christmas night, I saw the mass in the Basilica of St. Francis, although I was more than a mile away, too ill to rise from my bed, so clear was the vision that the next day I could name the friars present at the celebration. For this last miracle,
I have become the patron of Television.
    As I lay on my death bed, Pope Innocent, My sister, St. Agnes; Leo, Angelo and Juniper, three of the early companions of St. Francis were all present. At my request, they read aloud the Passion of Our Lord according to St. John as they had done 27 years before as St. Francis lay dying at the Porziuncula.  Before dawn on 11 August 1253 I passed away very peacefully. My skeleton can still be viewed in a perfect state of preservation at the shrine, in the crypt, at Santa Chiara.
 I am at peace but always listen for your call!
     Love in the faith of Jesus Christ
         Clare

GOT A MINUTE?  HOW ABOUT A WEEK?

The Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul extend an invitation to single women between the ages of 19-55 to share a week of their year to serve persons who are poor.  This live-in program with the Sisters will assist them in their ministries providing health care, education, and social ministry to children, to the elderly, and to those who are homeless.  This experience includes communal prayer, volunteer ministry to persons in need, and time for reflection on the Vincentian Spirit of Love.
Opportunities to serve exist in the following places: The District of Columbia, Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, North Caroline, South Carolina, Georgia and northern Florida.  For further information contact Sister Maureen Houlihan, D.C., Post Office Box 358, Gloverville, S.C. 29828 or call 803-593-5158.

OVER 50'S CLUB CHRISTMAS PARTY
 St. Clare's  "Over 50's Club" will have its annual Christmas party-luncheon at Stacey's Homestyle Buffet at 1:00 p.m. December 10.  Gifts will be exchanged. The club will not have a business meeting in December.  Incidentally, Joan Kivel won the "Over 50's" drawing for two fares on a Sterling day-cruise during our recent Ministry Fair. This gift was provided by Josette's Travel Service in Deltona

DECEMBER STEWARDSHIP MESSAGE

"Be generous, sharing what you have." (1 Timothy 6:18)

We are all stewards - managers of the many gifts God has bestowed upon us.  Our challenge as Christians is to make good use of those gifts.

In our daily lives, we manage our family and work responsibilities. However, to become occupied with these important matters to the exclusion of the needs of others outside our home or work is a mistake we could carry into eternity.  This month, as we go about our preparations for the holidays, remember God's greatest gift to us, His Son, Jesus Christ, and give back to Him your time and talent in gratitude for what He has given to you.

DEVEREUX FAMILY CARE - HELP WANTED

Devereaux Family Care provides an opportunity for children and adults to live in a family environment.  The goal of the program is to provide the support clients need to live in the least restrictive setting possible - a family home as opposed to residential treatment and group homes.  The special needs of the clients are addressed by providing intensive behavioral services with training in basic living, communication and socialization.  Individual goals are set, and progress is monitored
throughout the treatment process.

Devereaux Family Care is looking for loving families that will open their hearts and homes to children and adults with developmental disabilities.  They serve as in-home treatment agents, implementing strategies specified in the individual client's treatment plan.

Family Care Parents will receive generous compensation, 14 days of respite per year, monetary bonuses for teaching clients new skills, monetary incentives for helping Devereaux recruit new Family Care Parents, in-home behavioral service, and 24-hour crisis support.

For more information, please call Vanessa Kee at 386-738-5543.

HOW THE CANDY CANE CAME TO BE

A candymaker in Indiana wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas Candy Cane.  He incorporated several symbols for the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ.

 He began with a stick of pure white, hard candy.  White to symbolize the Virgin birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the solid rock, the foundation of the Church, and firmness of the promise of God.

The candymaker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth as our Savior.  It could also represent the staff of the Good Shepherd with which He reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs, who like all sheep, have gone astray.

Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candymaker stained it with red stripes.  He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging  Jesus received by which we are healed.  The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the cross that we could have the promise of Eternal Life.

Unfortunately, the candy became known as a Candy Cane - a meaningless decoration seen at Christmas time.  However, the meaning is still there for those who "have eyes to see and ears to hear."  We pray that this symbol will again be used to witness to the wonder of Jesus and His great love that came down at Christmas and remains the ultimate and dominant force in the universe today.

SANTA'S HERO

On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home .

The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened, and I heard a loud voice,
"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my corps."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep.
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
And we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night.
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."

A Marine stationed in Okinawa, Japan wrote this poem.  Christmas is coming soon, and some credit is due to our U. S. service men and women for our being able to celebrate the holiday festivities.

Novena to St. Clare
 Dear St. Clare, as a young girl you imitated your mother's love for the poor of your native Assisi. Inspired by the preaching of St. Francis, who sang enthusiastically of His Lord Jesus and Lady Poverty, you gave your life to Jesus at nineteen years of age, allowing St. Francis to cut off your beautiful hair and invest you with the Franciscan habit. All through your life you offered your great suffering for your Sisters, the Poor Clares, and the conversion of souls. You greatly aided St. Francis with his new order, carrying on his spirit in the Franciscans after his death. Most of all you had a deep love of Jesus in the Most Blessed Sacrament, which fueled your vocation to love and care for the poor.
    Please pray for me (mention your request) that I will seek to keep Jesus as my first love, as you did. Help me to grow
in love of the Blessed Sacrament, to care for the poor, and to offer my whole life to God.
    Heavenly Father, thank you for the gift of St. Clare. Through her intercession, please hear and answer my prayer, in
the name of Jesus Your Son.  Amen.

The Power of just calling the name Jesus
A friend of mine was driving through an intersection one day and his little four-year-old son was in the car with him. The car door flew open and the little boy rolled out of the vehicle right into the middle of traffic coming from four ways.

The last thing my friend saw was a set of car wheels just about on top of his son-moving at a fast rate of speed. All he knew to do was to cry "JESUS!"

As soon as he could bring his car to a halt, he jumped out and ran to his son, who was perfectly all right. But the man driving the car that almost hit the child was absolutely hysterical. My friend went over to him and tried to comfort him. "man, don't be upset!" he said. "My son is all right, he's okay. Don't be concerned about it. Just thank God you were able to stop!" "You don't
understand!" the man responded. "I never touched my brakes!"