Seems like a lifetime ago when Nine Cent Girl was born. The fiery hues of autumn had just subsided into a monochromatic black and white across my Vermont landscape, while fickle sunlight and arctic air drove me indoors. It was during this introspective time in the seasonal circle that my blog became a trusty beacon, illuminating my direction through what dark days lay ahead as well as brightening the unforeseen surprises dropped along my path.
Peace Keeper
Although he is my brother, there is still much for me to learn about the doings of Anthony Donovan. As a younger sister, he was out and about while I was still living in childhood. Even when I began to notice the world, my focus was different and in many ways, still is. Nevertheless, we have accumulated a lifetime of memories. There is one extraordinary moment when our lives collided that always stands out to me. It was on April 24, 1971, when we were both part of the half a million people marching in Washington, D.C. to protest the Vietnam War. I was 15 years old, there with high school peers, while Anthony, unbeknownst to me, had come from college. Eventually, in the wee-hours of the 25th, the bus long gone, I was wandering alone, when I literally stumbled across his legs. After a brief conversation of the hows and whats and whys, he walked me to Constitution Ave. and flagged down a car with a New Jersey plate. Giving the driver and his companions the best big brother directive, and a few bucks, Anthony got me out of the capital and headed home. Before we said goodbye, I realized it was his birthday. A reason for me to stay, I suggested. He didn’t agree, as he knew what was coming: his arrest with over 12,000 others. As we parted in the blue dawn, I was years away from understanding that his role in anti-war demonstrations was more than a lark. It is his mission, he says, for the next generation.
a civilization of love
This week has been yet another rife with unrest, which I certainly don’t need to review tonight. But, I will ask, as I often do, for you to step away from the drama in Washington or the horror splattered across your screens or whatever is churning you away from finding some peace. As I write this, I am aware of my privilege to walk away. I can look out my window and easily find solace in a blue forgiving sky. Perhaps, you too can take a break for a moment. Time it if you must. But long enough to breathe.
If you are a Catholic, then perhaps, during this Holy Week you have read Pope Leo XIV’s directive. “Leading up to Easter, the Pope’s Lenten message encouraged listening to the cries of the suffering, using “disarmed” language, and building a “civilization of love” (Winnipeg Free Press).
Nine Cent Girl 