An unexpected pen pal
About a year and a half ago, I was playing some praise and worship music on youtube when the suggested song popped up took me by surprise. It was a song by a Franciscan Friar of the Renewal, and the name of the Brother singing was... Isaiah.
My second-born son immediately took to the song, because for one thing, it's incredibly catchy and well-done. Think a more spiritual version of Jack Johnson, with a reference to the Beatles and even to seventeenth century poet, John Donne thrown in. Of course, my little boy was especially taken in by the fact that the singer and he share a name. He also noticed that Brother Isaiah bears a resemblance to his beloved Kindergarten teacher: enough to keep a five year old boy hooked.
Here's the song, by the way:
He kept requesting we play Brother Isaiah's music, and started asking lots of questions, like "I wonder if he would ever come to Barry's Bay and perform a concert for us?" I realized that was unlikely, but in order to channel his admiration for this friar, I suggested he write a letter for Brother Isaiah. I looked up the CFRs website, where several friaries were listed, and randomly chose one to mail it to. Fan mail for a religious brother, you say? Why not, when you bear the name "Craine" and you wouldn't even exist if your mom and dad didn't fall in love while visiting the CFRs and discerning a vocation with them.
About ten months later, I was having an especially exhausting day with the children. When I went to pick up the boys from school, I asked them to check the mail for me while I sat in the car, an errand they are delighted to do for me. They came running out, shouting, and my heart froze in fear until I saw their expressions. In their hands was a bubble envelope from the US and they both recognized the name on the return address -- "Isaiah." They knew the Brother had written back my child.
Inside was a beautiful, beautiful letter from Brother Isaiah himself. He apologized for taking so long for replying, but we had sent his letter to New York, and he is actually assigned to a friary in New Mexico. So when one of the Brothers was visiting, he brought my son's letter in his carry-on for Brother Isaiah.
The warmth, affection and humility he shared in his letter brought grateful tears to my eyes. He really seemed to understand appreciate who Isaiah is, even through the simple letter and coloured pencil portrait my son had drawn of him.
{His sense of humor was delightful, too. "I'm so glad to hear you have a brother named Elijah! I have a Brother Elijah, too! In fact I have 40 brothers and sisters!"
When I read this to the children, Anna gasped and said, "how do they all fit in one van?!"}
With the letter, he included his album. My little son clasped it to his chest and said, "he gave ME a present! This is MY CD." Immediately we put it on in the van and for some reason, I don't recall why, we had to make a trip to alma mater that day. We drove up with the music playing, and I vividly recall parking the van, rolling down the windows and my children skipping on the lawn to the music.
It is imprinted on my mind as a moment of pure, pure joy, a moment when the veil of the ongoing to-do lists and worries lifts and I see the sheer delight I have been given in my vocation.
Brother Isaiah's album became our "car music" (as we don't own a CD player in the house) and whenever I hear any of his songs, it takes me back to the summer, driving to the beach, or the chip wagon, or Nazareth family camp, and our carefree days together as a family of six.
{My little sweetheart on the feast of St. Francis. I had planned zero activities, so Isaiah took it upon himself to dress up like my favourite saint (in his housecoat, naturally).}
My second-born son immediately took to the song, because for one thing, it's incredibly catchy and well-done. Think a more spiritual version of Jack Johnson, with a reference to the Beatles and even to seventeenth century poet, John Donne thrown in. Of course, my little boy was especially taken in by the fact that the singer and he share a name. He also noticed that Brother Isaiah bears a resemblance to his beloved Kindergarten teacher: enough to keep a five year old boy hooked.
Here's the song, by the way:
He kept requesting we play Brother Isaiah's music, and started asking lots of questions, like "I wonder if he would ever come to Barry's Bay and perform a concert for us?" I realized that was unlikely, but in order to channel his admiration for this friar, I suggested he write a letter for Brother Isaiah. I looked up the CFRs website, where several friaries were listed, and randomly chose one to mail it to. Fan mail for a religious brother, you say? Why not, when you bear the name "Craine" and you wouldn't even exist if your mom and dad didn't fall in love while visiting the CFRs and discerning a vocation with them.
About ten months later, I was having an especially exhausting day with the children. When I went to pick up the boys from school, I asked them to check the mail for me while I sat in the car, an errand they are delighted to do for me. They came running out, shouting, and my heart froze in fear until I saw their expressions. In their hands was a bubble envelope from the US and they both recognized the name on the return address -- "Isaiah." They knew the Brother had written back my child.
Inside was a beautiful, beautiful letter from Brother Isaiah himself. He apologized for taking so long for replying, but we had sent his letter to New York, and he is actually assigned to a friary in New Mexico. So when one of the Brothers was visiting, he brought my son's letter in his carry-on for Brother Isaiah.
The warmth, affection and humility he shared in his letter brought grateful tears to my eyes. He really seemed to understand appreciate who Isaiah is, even through the simple letter and coloured pencil portrait my son had drawn of him.
{His sense of humor was delightful, too. "I'm so glad to hear you have a brother named Elijah! I have a Brother Elijah, too! In fact I have 40 brothers and sisters!"
When I read this to the children, Anna gasped and said, "how do they all fit in one van?!"}
With the letter, he included his album. My little son clasped it to his chest and said, "he gave ME a present! This is MY CD." Immediately we put it on in the van and for some reason, I don't recall why, we had to make a trip to alma mater that day. We drove up with the music playing, and I vividly recall parking the van, rolling down the windows and my children skipping on the lawn to the music.
It is imprinted on my mind as a moment of pure, pure joy, a moment when the veil of the ongoing to-do lists and worries lifts and I see the sheer delight I have been given in my vocation.
Brother Isaiah's album became our "car music" (as we don't own a CD player in the house) and whenever I hear any of his songs, it takes me back to the summer, driving to the beach, or the chip wagon, or Nazareth family camp, and our carefree days together as a family of six.
Touchingly, the two Isaiahs have continued their correspondence since then.
The most recent letter was a thank-you to Isaiah for sending him a Christmas present; although I dithered on writing Christmas cards -- despite ordering family photos, sigh -- I did manage a card with a family photo for our newfound friend and intercessor. I did so primarily because Isaiah was insistent on sending a gift to Brother Isaiah.
Before Christmas he worked diligently at writing out and illustrating the Christmas story, then colouring it in with watercolours. We brought it to the local print shop and they copied and bound it for him, making copies for his grandparents, godparents, his teacher and of course, Brother Isaiah.
The heartfelt words and promises of prayers for him have lit him up like nothing I have ever seen. It is a true joy to behold him feeling so appreciated. For a child who has his struggles and at times feels quite misunderstood, to have the simple affection and kindness of this Brother has meant so much to him. A joyful, prayerful fire has been lit in my little boy's heart, and I owe a huge thanks to this kind Brother with a guitar.
What a wonderful story! So often when an author writes about a song, I am terribly disappointed when I actually hear it. Not so this time. Both the song and the story were part of the great Theo-drama.
ReplyDeleteI loved the song too. And I'm glad you liked the story! :)
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