I'll come back this evening to leave the answers to my own questions, but in conversation with another Viriditas member about the playlist, she suggested we could all share songs that come to mind as we read, and then these could be added as we go. I LOVE this idea, so I've added seven by Taylor Swift for this week's reading. If music is one of the ways you nurture your spirituality, do share any song suggestions and I'll pop them in the playlist. :)
1. I am going to be transparent here, and say that I found these chapters so difficult to read. There was no celebration of Francie's birth from Katie, Johnny or the extended family. Instead there was this sense of Francie being a burden and a setback. It is similar to my son's story before he became ours....viewed as a curse. As a mom, it breaks me to read these words. I see so much of Tate (my son) in Francie. She was born into multigenerational poverty and dysfunction...born to suffer and struggle and to prove resilience over and over again...more times than is right for a human being. I want to reach into the story and remove her struggles so intensely, the same way I fight for my sweet boy. I have to remind myself it is fiction (with some elements of truth from Smith's life). But reading these chapters was very emotional for me.
2. When I think of my origin story, I think of moving around frequently. My dad was a pastor and we moved on average every 3-4 years. He was also a workaholic, equating his call to ministry (and thus, God) as number 1 at all costs even to the demise of his family. Growing up, I remember promising that I would never marry a pastor or someone in the military because I wanted my kids to have long-term friends. Ultimately, I did marry a pastor (ha), but we are not currently in church ministry. But, my childhood story shapes how I feel about wanting my kids to have long-term, consistent relationships with people who genuinely love them and see their value. If I let you into our family, then you have become chosen family....never left behind.
I admire your vulnerability in sharing this with us here. ❤️ I'm thinking back to Elizabeth's comment the first week about feeling very protective of Francie. I can imagine you feel this even more intensely when her story resonates so much with your own. It is a joy to have been a part of your chosen family for over half my life now; I can testify to your deep, abiding love and the way this has enabled me to flourish. I can only imagine how much more this is true of your children. Love you.
Honestly, it took me a week or two to recognize that I felt fiercely protective of Francie. I found it difficult to connect to the character initially, and I think part of that was to protect myself. It forced me to acknowledge that I can't control what is written in her story....I can't help her. How do you protect a character? I just can read along and see what happens. The reality of the similarities between Francie and my Tate hit me like a ton of bricks, and the theme of suffering (which you graciously warned me about in advance) continues to take my breath away.
"I can't control what is written in her story...How do you protect a character?" I think this observation is really profound in a literary sense, but also in our real lives. In reflecting on your comment, I am realizing we cannot control all that is written in anyone's story (even our children as they grow up and spread their wings). That is really discouraging to me, but then I think back to the librarian and what a difference a smile would have made. We can't control people's stories, but we can contribute to them. Hmmm... I'm going to think on this some more.
I doubt it was your intention here, but your thoughts are really profound as I think about the challenge of foster care. I personally have not done foster care YET, but I think that the role of the librarian and what a difference should could have made to Francie if she could have just been present with her in those few moments. Contributing to a story that you may not see to completion...hmm...now I have some chewing to do.
Thanks so much for sharing this, Heather. It has made me really reflect on the books that are dearest to me, and why they've made such an imprint on me. And so many of them share that sense of being fiercely protective of a character. I wonder if that's part of the power of reading, actually - as you've said, you can't step into that person's story and change it, but reading it *does* change us. It makes me think of that passage, which I loved and yet found so heartbreaking, where Francie's Grandmother tells Katie about how it is good to believe with all your heart in something, even when those beliefs are then disappointed, because there's something about being so invested in these imaginative tales that 'fattens the emotions and makes them to stretch'. I love the idea that when we pour ourselves into a book, even if it hurts, we come away stretched, with a new capacity for loving or seeing the people around us.
Simply chiming in here to say I've really valued the conversation you all are having and I think you're really onto something here... loving others beyond are capacity is what stretches our capacity. It reminds me of a blessing by Jan Richardson, which I'll share in this week's post. At the beginning she quotes Henry David Thoreau: There is no remedy for love but to love more.
I loved the image of Francie's being snuggled between Katie and Aunt Sissy on her first night on earth, and Aunt Sissy's fierce determination to get Francie what they believed would be important for her. Already we get a sense of the strength of the women in her family and have seen in the first 6 chapters how Francie is becoming one of them, too. Another reality is that her story started with such pain and heartache, and there is a sense things will go on as they began. And yet we've been told Francie has some of the qualities of her family that she needs to endure it, plus her own something that was unique to her. I'm excited to see more of what that is.
As for my own life... I am named after my grandmother, and we've always been very close. My mom has often said her purpose on earth was to bring the two of us together. My grandparents were the first people to take me on a missions trip and it was during this experience I felt a call to ministry. We are some of the only members of the larger extended family that are still involved in the same denomination. So not only do I feel a personal connection, but I have a vocational connection to them as well. As I reflect on it, I definitely feel like being named after her is something that made me feel like a good relationship between us was a given. In recent years I've considered leaving the denomination I was brought up in, but that connection with my grandparents is something that makes this very difficult for me to imagine actually doing. The story and experience of our relationship continues to inform my decision making for my future.
I was so struck by that image of her between Katie and Sissy too! I found the pure sisterly love of that moment really moving, and loved witnessing their joy and laughter as Sissy has to take her nightgown off and wake the whole building to nail down the star bank. I'm struck by the fact that these three women - Francie's Grandmother, Mother, and Aunt - have all of this fierce love and passion in them, so much of which goes unseen or unappreciated by the men in their lives. It felt powerful, and simultaneously sad, to see Katie brought into this world of female characters and their devotion to each other, even as she herself is neglected by her Father.
1. TBH, I wish Katie had chosen someone better than Johnnie. It’s not that I dislike him as a person. The pastor in me wants to care for him. The woman in me thinks she could have done a lot better. I’m always disappointed when women choose to spend their life with men who are not equal teammates. Katie was captivated by Johnnie’s smart clothes and his suave ways, but he didn’t have any real substance or strength to him. Maybe if she’d had a different relationship with her father, she would have chosen someone else, and her life (and subsequently her children’s lives) would have been very different? Hard to say. I was really saddened (and yes, protective too) by ways Francie was labeled as weak and burdensome from birth. As I read this, I am more convinced than ever of her inner mettle. Maybe she doesn’t have the same amount of steel her mother does, but that “something else” that she does have is really special.
2. This question about our own origin stories is really interesting. My parents were married young and had me young and were pretty poor as a result, but as I reflect on it, I am aware that they never made me feel like that was my fault or that they regretted having me. I am grateful for that. Two months before I was born, my parents moved 1400 miles from their families to grad school. They immediately began attending a church that remained my home church for the first 24 years of my life and is my parents’ church to this day. As a result, I had a closer relationship to my church family than my extended family. My church family played a significant role in shaping my identity, and I am thankful for that. They continue to love my family to this day, even though I moved away 14 years ago.
Yes...I absolutely feel the same way about Johnny. I was disappointed that her response was that she would always have to take care of him because he couldn't take care of himself. There was no partnership, just Katie digging deeper and working harder and taking more on for the family. While I don't doubt that Francie will have the same tenacity, I doubt that it will do much for her choices in dating relationships in the book (if that topic is addressed).
I feel this tension for Katie too and I wonder what her life could have been like if she had set her sights higher. And, I know this is a sort of cliche thing to say, but we wouldn't have Francie if she had. That's a constant tension isn't it - recognising something/someone as sacred while still acknowledging the pain that can't be separated from its/their existence.
There was so much that was simultaneously hard and beautiful in these chapters, and I'm anticipating that this may be a running theme in my reaction to this book. What struck me most, though, was that simple sentence at the end of chapter 9: 'That's how the library of Francie Nolan was started.' Having already seen how deeply the world of books is imprinted into Francie's sense of herself, it was powerful to witness these three strong women, her Mother, her Aunt, and her Grandmother, deciding on her first day on earth that she would be a reader.
It made me think a lot, actually, of the stories I'm always told about myself as a child. More than anything, what I hear is that I always, always wanted books. My parents often tell me that I was bored incredibly easily unless I had a book (this much has not changed), and then I was totally absorbed, even when they were fabric baby books. I'm reminded, too, of a home video of me as a toddler taken at Christmas, opening a Cinderella book and joyfully saying (in broken toddler English), "it's what I've always wanted!" I think reading about Francie's origin story has really brought home to me just how crucial it is to my sense of myself that I am a reader.
I really like how you've framed this here... Francie's mother, aunt, and grandmother deciding she would be a reader on her first day of life. I suspect that will change everything for her. I hope it does. I hope that the magic of books opens a whole new world for her in so many ways. And I wonder what your life (and mine, and all of ours) would be like without books? Who would we be without the stories that have shaped us?
"I am a reader." That statements strikes me as more than something describing a hobby - it is something that IS you, not only something you do. It's no surprise your vocation involves reading books & writing them. Also... you being a reader means other things about you too. I wonder what attributes or qualities you see in yourself that have grown as a result of your reading life?
I was describing some hard things to my spiritual director. She said, “Tell me about your grandmothers.” I told her about my paternal great-grandma, who followed her husband West to Eastern Colorado and helped build her house out of sod on the dry plains during the dust bowl. And I told her about my maternal grandma who cared for her disabled husband, aging parents, and two daughter, while working full time as a school nurse. My SD, a Benedictine nun, said, “These women are with you. They are a part of your great cloud of witnesses, and they are cheering you on. They have done hard things and so can you.” My deep-rooted Protestantism wasn’t ready to fully embrace the image of a grandma on each shoulder, BUT I have been thinking about the description of Francie in ch 8. The mettle that empowered my grandmas to thrive in the hardest of hard situations is in me. It’s a part of my makeup too. Their story is part of my story. Their strength is in my cells.
I wonder what qualities have been passed down to you all? I wonder if Francie, like me, will need to draw deeply from the strength of the women before her at times?
I'm struck by the story of your paternal great-grandma, and I wonder if you see yourself in her having moved abroad? I suspect moving to Eastern Colorado then felt a bit like moving to New Zealand now? And if you see/feel something of that grit and strength reflected in your own story?
I have my own grandmother's weird gift for seeing patterns in numbers, my Mammaw's work ethic on behalf of her family, my maternal grandparents' call to the church, my mother's fiery and compassionate spirit, and my father's sense of adventure and extroversion. ❤️
I'll come back this evening to leave the answers to my own questions, but in conversation with another Viriditas member about the playlist, she suggested we could all share songs that come to mind as we read, and then these could be added as we go. I LOVE this idea, so I've added seven by Taylor Swift for this week's reading. If music is one of the ways you nurture your spirituality, do share any song suggestions and I'll pop them in the playlist. :)
1. I am going to be transparent here, and say that I found these chapters so difficult to read. There was no celebration of Francie's birth from Katie, Johnny or the extended family. Instead there was this sense of Francie being a burden and a setback. It is similar to my son's story before he became ours....viewed as a curse. As a mom, it breaks me to read these words. I see so much of Tate (my son) in Francie. She was born into multigenerational poverty and dysfunction...born to suffer and struggle and to prove resilience over and over again...more times than is right for a human being. I want to reach into the story and remove her struggles so intensely, the same way I fight for my sweet boy. I have to remind myself it is fiction (with some elements of truth from Smith's life). But reading these chapters was very emotional for me.
2. When I think of my origin story, I think of moving around frequently. My dad was a pastor and we moved on average every 3-4 years. He was also a workaholic, equating his call to ministry (and thus, God) as number 1 at all costs even to the demise of his family. Growing up, I remember promising that I would never marry a pastor or someone in the military because I wanted my kids to have long-term friends. Ultimately, I did marry a pastor (ha), but we are not currently in church ministry. But, my childhood story shapes how I feel about wanting my kids to have long-term, consistent relationships with people who genuinely love them and see their value. If I let you into our family, then you have become chosen family....never left behind.
I admire your vulnerability in sharing this with us here. ❤️ I'm thinking back to Elizabeth's comment the first week about feeling very protective of Francie. I can imagine you feel this even more intensely when her story resonates so much with your own. It is a joy to have been a part of your chosen family for over half my life now; I can testify to your deep, abiding love and the way this has enabled me to flourish. I can only imagine how much more this is true of your children. Love you.
Honestly, it took me a week or two to recognize that I felt fiercely protective of Francie. I found it difficult to connect to the character initially, and I think part of that was to protect myself. It forced me to acknowledge that I can't control what is written in her story....I can't help her. How do you protect a character? I just can read along and see what happens. The reality of the similarities between Francie and my Tate hit me like a ton of bricks, and the theme of suffering (which you graciously warned me about in advance) continues to take my breath away.
"I can't control what is written in her story...How do you protect a character?" I think this observation is really profound in a literary sense, but also in our real lives. In reflecting on your comment, I am realizing we cannot control all that is written in anyone's story (even our children as they grow up and spread their wings). That is really discouraging to me, but then I think back to the librarian and what a difference a smile would have made. We can't control people's stories, but we can contribute to them. Hmmm... I'm going to think on this some more.
I doubt it was your intention here, but your thoughts are really profound as I think about the challenge of foster care. I personally have not done foster care YET, but I think that the role of the librarian and what a difference should could have made to Francie if she could have just been present with her in those few moments. Contributing to a story that you may not see to completion...hmm...now I have some chewing to do.
Thanks so much for sharing this, Heather. It has made me really reflect on the books that are dearest to me, and why they've made such an imprint on me. And so many of them share that sense of being fiercely protective of a character. I wonder if that's part of the power of reading, actually - as you've said, you can't step into that person's story and change it, but reading it *does* change us. It makes me think of that passage, which I loved and yet found so heartbreaking, where Francie's Grandmother tells Katie about how it is good to believe with all your heart in something, even when those beliefs are then disappointed, because there's something about being so invested in these imaginative tales that 'fattens the emotions and makes them to stretch'. I love the idea that when we pour ourselves into a book, even if it hurts, we come away stretched, with a new capacity for loving or seeing the people around us.
Simply chiming in here to say I've really valued the conversation you all are having and I think you're really onto something here... loving others beyond are capacity is what stretches our capacity. It reminds me of a blessing by Jan Richardson, which I'll share in this week's post. At the beginning she quotes Henry David Thoreau: There is no remedy for love but to love more.
I loved the image of Francie's being snuggled between Katie and Aunt Sissy on her first night on earth, and Aunt Sissy's fierce determination to get Francie what they believed would be important for her. Already we get a sense of the strength of the women in her family and have seen in the first 6 chapters how Francie is becoming one of them, too. Another reality is that her story started with such pain and heartache, and there is a sense things will go on as they began. And yet we've been told Francie has some of the qualities of her family that she needs to endure it, plus her own something that was unique to her. I'm excited to see more of what that is.
As for my own life... I am named after my grandmother, and we've always been very close. My mom has often said her purpose on earth was to bring the two of us together. My grandparents were the first people to take me on a missions trip and it was during this experience I felt a call to ministry. We are some of the only members of the larger extended family that are still involved in the same denomination. So not only do I feel a personal connection, but I have a vocational connection to them as well. As I reflect on it, I definitely feel like being named after her is something that made me feel like a good relationship between us was a given. In recent years I've considered leaving the denomination I was brought up in, but that connection with my grandparents is something that makes this very difficult for me to imagine actually doing. The story and experience of our relationship continues to inform my decision making for my future.
I was so struck by that image of her between Katie and Sissy too! I found the pure sisterly love of that moment really moving, and loved witnessing their joy and laughter as Sissy has to take her nightgown off and wake the whole building to nail down the star bank. I'm struck by the fact that these three women - Francie's Grandmother, Mother, and Aunt - have all of this fierce love and passion in them, so much of which goes unseen or unappreciated by the men in their lives. It felt powerful, and simultaneously sad, to see Katie brought into this world of female characters and their devotion to each other, even as she herself is neglected by her Father.
You can really see the generational themes playing out, huh? I hope Francie breaks them.
1. TBH, I wish Katie had chosen someone better than Johnnie. It’s not that I dislike him as a person. The pastor in me wants to care for him. The woman in me thinks she could have done a lot better. I’m always disappointed when women choose to spend their life with men who are not equal teammates. Katie was captivated by Johnnie’s smart clothes and his suave ways, but he didn’t have any real substance or strength to him. Maybe if she’d had a different relationship with her father, she would have chosen someone else, and her life (and subsequently her children’s lives) would have been very different? Hard to say. I was really saddened (and yes, protective too) by ways Francie was labeled as weak and burdensome from birth. As I read this, I am more convinced than ever of her inner mettle. Maybe she doesn’t have the same amount of steel her mother does, but that “something else” that she does have is really special.
2. This question about our own origin stories is really interesting. My parents were married young and had me young and were pretty poor as a result, but as I reflect on it, I am aware that they never made me feel like that was my fault or that they regretted having me. I am grateful for that. Two months before I was born, my parents moved 1400 miles from their families to grad school. They immediately began attending a church that remained my home church for the first 24 years of my life and is my parents’ church to this day. As a result, I had a closer relationship to my church family than my extended family. My church family played a significant role in shaping my identity, and I am thankful for that. They continue to love my family to this day, even though I moved away 14 years ago.
Yes...I absolutely feel the same way about Johnny. I was disappointed that her response was that she would always have to take care of him because he couldn't take care of himself. There was no partnership, just Katie digging deeper and working harder and taking more on for the family. While I don't doubt that Francie will have the same tenacity, I doubt that it will do much for her choices in dating relationships in the book (if that topic is addressed).
It's been years since I've read this and I don't remember what happens with Francie and dating, if anything! I'll be curious to see this too.
I feel this tension for Katie too and I wonder what her life could have been like if she had set her sights higher. And, I know this is a sort of cliche thing to say, but we wouldn't have Francie if she had. That's a constant tension isn't it - recognising something/someone as sacred while still acknowledging the pain that can't be separated from its/their existence.
There was so much that was simultaneously hard and beautiful in these chapters, and I'm anticipating that this may be a running theme in my reaction to this book. What struck me most, though, was that simple sentence at the end of chapter 9: 'That's how the library of Francie Nolan was started.' Having already seen how deeply the world of books is imprinted into Francie's sense of herself, it was powerful to witness these three strong women, her Mother, her Aunt, and her Grandmother, deciding on her first day on earth that she would be a reader.
It made me think a lot, actually, of the stories I'm always told about myself as a child. More than anything, what I hear is that I always, always wanted books. My parents often tell me that I was bored incredibly easily unless I had a book (this much has not changed), and then I was totally absorbed, even when they were fabric baby books. I'm reminded, too, of a home video of me as a toddler taken at Christmas, opening a Cinderella book and joyfully saying (in broken toddler English), "it's what I've always wanted!" I think reading about Francie's origin story has really brought home to me just how crucial it is to my sense of myself that I am a reader.
I really like how you've framed this here... Francie's mother, aunt, and grandmother deciding she would be a reader on her first day of life. I suspect that will change everything for her. I hope it does. I hope that the magic of books opens a whole new world for her in so many ways. And I wonder what your life (and mine, and all of ours) would be like without books? Who would we be without the stories that have shaped us?
"I am a reader." That statements strikes me as more than something describing a hobby - it is something that IS you, not only something you do. It's no surprise your vocation involves reading books & writing them. Also... you being a reader means other things about you too. I wonder what attributes or qualities you see in yourself that have grown as a result of your reading life?
I was describing some hard things to my spiritual director. She said, “Tell me about your grandmothers.” I told her about my paternal great-grandma, who followed her husband West to Eastern Colorado and helped build her house out of sod on the dry plains during the dust bowl. And I told her about my maternal grandma who cared for her disabled husband, aging parents, and two daughter, while working full time as a school nurse. My SD, a Benedictine nun, said, “These women are with you. They are a part of your great cloud of witnesses, and they are cheering you on. They have done hard things and so can you.” My deep-rooted Protestantism wasn’t ready to fully embrace the image of a grandma on each shoulder, BUT I have been thinking about the description of Francie in ch 8. The mettle that empowered my grandmas to thrive in the hardest of hard situations is in me. It’s a part of my makeup too. Their story is part of my story. Their strength is in my cells.
I wonder what qualities have been passed down to you all? I wonder if Francie, like me, will need to draw deeply from the strength of the women before her at times?
I'm struck by the story of your paternal great-grandma, and I wonder if you see yourself in her having moved abroad? I suspect moving to Eastern Colorado then felt a bit like moving to New Zealand now? And if you see/feel something of that grit and strength reflected in your own story?
I have my own grandmother's weird gift for seeing patterns in numbers, my Mammaw's work ethic on behalf of her family, my maternal grandparents' call to the church, my mother's fiery and compassionate spirit, and my father's sense of adventure and extroversion. ❤️