A Pilgrim in this World

It’s Tuesday, February 17. This year, it is a day of celebration across many traditions and across vast expanses of this old earth. Chinese Lunar New Year begins today: it is the year of the Fire Horse. Ramadan is expected to begin this evening, if the new moon is seen in the sky, and it is expected to make its appearance tonight. And in this house, it is Shrove Tuesday: the final day of the Carnival Season: Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday: it is the night we have pancakes for supper. Tomorrow, when we rise, it will be Ash Wednesday. The Lenten Season will have begun: forty days of reflection and of abstaining, best we can, from excess. But that is not today. Shrove Tuesday is the day we use up all the provisions in the larder that we traditionally would not consume during the Lenten fast.

From the time when I was a boy, Lent meant no meat on Fridays, which, let’s face it, is not much to give up. In earlier times, though, the restrictions on food during Lent were quite extensive, and not just on Fridays, but all the days of Lent: no eggs, no meat, no lard, no milk, no cheese, no sugar… not much of anything truly enjoyable. Beans and pulses and vegetables and fish were acceptable, but not much else was on the table this time of year.

Sacrifice is not something we often think of, especially in this day and age, when we can find pretty much anything we want, whenever we want it. Fresh cherries in February? No problem, they’ve been flown here to your local supermarket from Argentina’s warm summer days. A slice of cheesecake from a bakery in New York flown overnight to you in Albuquerque? Also no problem. There’s no real need to eat seasonally, if you don’t want to, and if you’ve got the do-re-mi, you can get anything your heart desires delivered to your doorstep. The value of Lent, though, is that restraint is encouraged, and this idea that perhaps we should not have anything we want, whenever we want it, is, perhaps, a worthy quality, and one we should be mindful of at least every now and then. This is Lent. Lent is that reminder to be mindful.

It is also a good reminder to be kind, and respectful, and compassionate, because Lent is also a good reminder that we each are dust and to dust we shall return. Each of us. You and me in our comfortable houses. The kid who lives under the overpass. The immigrant trying to make it here and send a few bucks to the family back in the old country. The ones who get deported. The childish, disrespectful, grifting power-hungry blowhard in the White House. I don’t like calling people names, but come on: I can’t think of anyone I’d least like to be trapped in an elevator with. We all are dust and to dust we shall return. In the space between, why not just be kind and compassionate and honest and respectful to the other pilgrims in this world? As Father Seamus would recite, from memory, standing before the congregation, fingers grasping the sleeves of his vestments:

Lord, I believe in you: increase my faith.
I trust in you: strengthen my trust.
I love you: let me love you more and more.
I am sorry for my sins: deepen my sorrow.

I worship you as my first beginning,
I long for you as my last end,
I praise you as my constant helper,
And call on you as my loving protector.

I want to do what you ask of me:
In the way you ask,
For as long as you ask,
Because you ask it.

Let me love you, my Lord and my God,
And see myself as I really am:
A pilgrim in this world,
A Christian called to respect and love
All whose lives I touch.

This, to me, sums things up nicely. It is a good blueprint for a firm foundation, a good roadmap for our journey, whether we are Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or Pagan or Agnostic or any thing we are. Change the words and make it right for you: Let me see myself as I really am: A pilgrim in this world, called to respect and love all whose lives I touch.

Anyway, I will think of these things tonight as we light the candles at our table and sit down to pancakes for our supper. And I will think of all of you, and wish only good things for you. We are all the same. We are all dust and to dust we shall return. That dust, mind you, came from the stars. It is some brilliant stuff.

N.B.: The original Convivio Book of Days calendar for February 2026 mistakenly placed the start of Ramadan at February 28… which, of course, was the date of the start of Ramadan in 2025. I’m still having trouble remembering it’s 2026. I’ve since updated the February calendar with the correct date for the start of Ramadan. Click here for that corrected calendar. 

Image: Cosmic dust in our Milky Way Galaxy, as photographed by NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope. This cosmic dust is a concentration of elements that are responsible for the formation of stars in our galaxy and throughout the universe. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

THIS WEEKEND at the SHOP
It’s Street Painting Festival time here in Lake Worth! If you’re coming to Lake Worth Beach for the event this Saturday and Sunday, why not make a little detour on your way in or out of town to come visit us at Convivio Bookworks? We’ll be open on Saturday, February 21, from 11 AM to 4 PM, and on Sunday, February 22, from 1 to 4 PM. We’ll be serving homemade Italian sweet treats and our own Löfbergs Swedish Coffee while you shop. Earlier on Sunday, we’ll be teaching a Convivio Cookery workshop: Come learn something new (and get your dinner ready while you’re at it) at our Mambricoli Pasta Making workshop on Sunday from 11 AM to 1 PM. So delicious and so easy! CLICK HERE for details and registration and to see what else is new at our Workshops page. And come see us at the Midnight Sun Festival! We’ll have a pop-up shop there on Friday, February 27, Saturday, February 28, and Sunday, March 1. This festival celebrating Finnish and Scandinavian culture is held annually at Bryant Park, on the Lake Worth Lagoon in Downtown Lake Worth Beach.

 

Cold Days, or Your February Book of Days

St. Brigid’s Day arrived on the First of February. Brigid, who bridges us from winter to spring. We pronounce her name here Bree-id, though there are some who pronounce it Bridge-id, which of course rhymes with frigid, which is how Brigid arrived this time around. And though your Convivio Book of Days Calendar for February was ready for you last night, I was too tired to let you know, and also too cold. Cold enough that we finally broke down and turned the heat on in the house, and that, my friends, is a rare event indeed.

If it’s cold here, I know it’s got to be even colder most everywhere else in the country, so I don’t expect your sympathy. But I will tell you that no one wanted to get out of bed on Sunday morning, and when we did, Seth found a sheet of ice outside in the birdbath. If I could have stayed home on Sunday, I would have spent the day on the couch with a good book. And in this month’s calendar, we’re honoring that most wonderful pastime. A cold winter’s night (or day) is the perfect time to pull a new book down from the bookcase.

By the time you read this, it will be the Second of February: Candlemas. Tonight at sunset we will run (or, more properly, process) through the house illuminating every lamp. And while I know Robert Herrick tells us the Christmas greenery must be down by Candlemas Eve, this year we are too cold to care about Mr. Herrick’s advice. The glow of the Christmas tree is too welcoming these cold, cold nights. And with that, I will say goodnight. More news soon, I promise. Take good care of each other. Minnesota: We’re with you.

WORKSHOPS
Come learn something new at our Lake Worth Beach shop! New offerings: Pasta Making: Mambricoli on Sunday February 22. CLICK HERE to see what’s new at our Workshops page.

THE SHOP WILL BE OPEN
for our final Valentine Market of the season this weekend: Friday night February 6 from 6 to 9 PM (we love the magic of a night market!), Saturday February 7 from 11 AM to 4 PM, and Sunday February 8 from 1 to 4 PM (we’re teaching a Cavatelli workshop from 11 to 1). Please come see us… we’ve got many unusual love tokens for all your Valentines. We’re happy to ship to you, too! CLICK HERE to shop with us, and thank you, as always, for your support.

Image: A 1906 painting by Franz Dvorak called “Thoughtful Reader”. [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.

Twelfth Night, Twelfth Day

The setting sun on January 5 brings Twelfth Night, the beginning of the end of the Yuletide festivities and our journey through the Twelve Days of Christmas. While nowadays it is rare to find a family that celebrates Twelfth Night, in years past, Twelfth Night celebrations in many places might rival those of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. By the Fifth of January, though, most of us these days are back to the workaday world, and back to some semblance of ordinary time. Even I, a longtime advocate for a return to Twelfth Night celebrations, have some trouble celebrating Twelfth Night unless it happens to fall on a weekend. The fact is that the contemporary world is tough on holidays like Twelfth Night, and tough on the Twelve Days of Christmas, in general. We rarely are afforded the time and space to celebrate them fully, and so many of them––Twelfth Night, especially––fall by the wayside.

Twelfth Night ushers in Twelfth Day: the Feast of the Epiphany, on the Sixth of January. Tradition tells us that this is the day the Magi arrived in Bethlehem to visit Mary and Joseph and bring their gifts to their newborn child. Seeing the child was their great epiphany, and in turn, ours. Epiphany is a celebration even older than Christmas itself. The Church early on recognized that Epiphany holds the great symbolism that this news of the savior’s birth was for all people. The Magi are not from Judea. They are from distant lands. By journeying for twelve days and paying homage to the child, the Magi show that the message is universal.

These three kings, the Magi, they are the ones who bring gifts to children in Spain and Latin America: as they travel on Twelfth Night, los Tres Reyes Magos deliver their gifts. Their story is wrapped up also with the story of a kindly old witch in Italy. She is called la Befana. She, too, travels on Twelfth Night, delivering gifts to children. The Magi stopped by at la Befana’s cottage on their way to Bethlehem, and they very kindly invited her to join them on their journey. But la Befana, well… she had so much housework to do. She was very busy sweeping her floors, after all! So, she told the Magi, “Grazie, but no. I have far too much to do.” And so the three kings and their retinue set off again on their journey, leaving la Befana to her work. But alas, la Befana felt a tug at her heart, and decided she would join them, after all. But it was too late. She never found the Magi, and she never found the child. Even after flying on her broom in the sky. She had squandered her chance. And to this day, each Twelfth Night, la Befana searches for the newborn child, leaving presents for all the sleeping children she looks in upon.

Just as she swept and swept her cottage floor, la Befana uses her broom to sweep Christmas away for another year. And we, in our house, follow yet another ancient tradition on Epiphany: the Chalking of the Doors, most common in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland. On Epiphany night, we will gather up all who are in attendance (which very often is just Seth and me) and we will each take turns writing with chalk on the lintel above the front door the numbers and letters and symbols of a traditional inscription. This year, it will read as follows: 20+C+M+B+26. These are the initials of each of the Three Kings (C for Caspar, M for Melchior, B for Balthasar), punctuated by crosses, blanketed on either side by the year. And here’s the part I tell you each and every year: For me, chalking the door is always accompanied by a silent prayer that no one will be missing when we gather next to write the inscription again. Depending on the weather, the inscription may be there above the door for a month or it may be there all the year through. And though Christmas be gone, still the inscription reminds us of its presence as we pass each day through that portal. The inscription is a magic charm of sorts, protecting the house and those who pass through the doorway, harboring the goodwill and spirit of the Christ Child, and of the Three Kings, and of Old Father Christmas, too.

And so if this is your welcome signal, once Epiphany has passed, to put away Christmas for another year, you are welcome. But if this idea makes you melancholy, well… I bring you tidings of good news: your celebration need not necessarily end here with the close of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Though the major part of the celebration is done, our convivial poet Robert Herrick reminds us that it is fine and good, too, to keep the Christmas greenery in your home for the rest of the month of January. This practice follows the ancient customs of his day, and we, here, each year follow Herrick’s lead. While we may at this point begin to put away many of the more contemporary decorations for the season, it is perfectly fine, by this custom, to keep the greenery, to keep the candles and the stars and the lights on the tree. As long as the greenery is gone by Candlemas Eve, Herrick says, all is well. Candlemas Eve: the First of February, the Eve of St. Brigid’s Day, honoring Brigid, who bridges us from winter to spring. Robert Herrick’s approach is, we feel, a most sensible approach to Christmastide and the wheel of the year (especially if you, like we, are in love with Christmas). This approach connects the Midwinter Solstice we celebrated at Christmas with the halfway point to the Spring Equinox in March, making for, I think, a more natural progression through time and through our Book of Days at this wintry time of year. And I do love a good connexion.

Happy Twelfth Night. Epiphany blessings, and happy Twelfth Day. Peace and love onto you all.

 

WORKSHOPS
Come learn something new at our Lake Worth Beach shop! New offerings: Pure Bookbinding on Saturday January 31; Pasta Making: Cavatelli on Sunday February 8; Pasta Making: Mambricoli on Sunday February 22. Coming soon (not yet on the website): Pysanky Egg Making on Sunday February 1. CLICK HERE to see what’s new at our Workshops page.

THE SHOP WILL BE OPEN
this Saturday, January 10, during our next workshop. The workshop (another pasta making workshop) is sold out, but you are welcome to come shop during the workshop, between the hours of 11 AM to 2 PM. You’ll find markdowns on Christmas stollen and lebkuchen and chocolates from Germany!

Image: “Adoration of the Magi,” a folio from a French Book of Hours. Ink, tempera, and gold on vellum, circa 1415 [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.