Thursday, February 22, 2007

Goody goody gumdrops

Ash Wednesday in the south of Holland is marked by a roaring sound. It is the sound of the industrial strength leaf blowers and street sweeping machines which move out in force to clean up all that confetti from the Carnaval parades.

Well, and all the plastic cups everybody left all over. This year there was much talk of a resurgence of Carnaval, but I really think it was the result of the relatively pleasant weather we have been having. It's a lot more fun to go out and carouse when you don't have to dress up as the Michelin Man to prevent frostbite.

I have deemed Douwe old enough to give Lent a whirl this year, despite the fact that he hasn't had first communion yet, and Daan is sort of playing along. So far they like it very much. This is of course because they think it's a game.

I ran across this poem on the internet and it became the game:
Red is for the blood He gave.
Green is for the palm's cool shade.
Yellow is for the sun so bright.
Black is for the peace of night.
Orange is for prayer at twilight.
White is for the grace He gave.
Purple is for His hour of sorrow.
Pink is for our new tomorrow.

Here's how the game goes: Each of them has a jar. They get a gumdrop for what they do, each time I catch them doing it. Color coded and all. (This game is supposed ot be played with jelly beans. But a thorough scouring of local shops resulted in no jellybeans. So gumdrops it became).

Like this: Red gumdrops are for giving up something you want. Green ones are for helping out cheerfully. Yellow is for kindness to others. Black are for going to bed without fighting about it. * Orange gum drops are for prayers or reading the Bible. Purple you get for apologizing for doing something wrong. Pink you get for forgiving somebody else.

White gumdrops cannot be earned, as grace cannot be earned; they just appear in your jar.

I had planned to let them eat the candy at Easter (or maybe laetare sunday**), but Oma intervened and said that when she was young, they weren't allowed to have candy during Lent but instead they had to save up any sweets they got during the week and were allowed to eat them on Sundays. And, okay, forty days is a long payoff time to maintain a system of bribes, er, a learning system of this kind. So we settled on Sunday.

I expect it will wear off. But I certainly am hip-deep in offers to set the table, carry my groceries, and empty the dishwasher. (Douwe likes yellow gumdrops, what can I tell you). Daan cleaned their room two nights in a row. (He likes green ones). So I think I will just enjoy it while it lasts. Hey, maybe I can get them really confused about exactly when Lent ends and...nah, then I'd have to go to confession again, wouldn't I?

Daan has put together Carnaval and Ash Wednesday Mass in a sort of peculiar way. I bought him a cowboy hat today as he has been invited to a cowboy birthday party next week. That, it turns out, is the only costume they do not have. So I got him a hat and he explained to me most earnestly that he couldn't wear it. Because for Carnaval you dress up every day and then you go to church and the priest paints your face and then you can't dress up after that any more until next Carnaval.

Well, there certainly is nothing subtle about the marking with ashes around here; they just about cover your whole forehead with that cross. So I understand his confusion.

*Okay, that may not be a real virtue. But it's certainly restful for somebody. *ahem* Oh, dear, do I have to confess to being craven?.

** This is the fourth Sunday in Lent, it means "joyful Sunday" or "mothering Sunday" and is a day of reprive from Lent.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What a wonderful way to intoduce them to Lent. And aren.t you a clever girl! I hope it works for them and they do it all through the season...oh well, for a long time at least.

By the way, I was googling the other day and found the 'Our Father' and the 'Hail Mary' in Dutch. It even had the prayers spoken so you can get correct pronuncations. No excuses now, just teach them the prayers.