October 24, 2025

In grade school, we had a course called “Picture Study”. Every Friday afternoon, Sister distributed small blue McLaughlin Notebooks. In them, we found the treasures of the great art galleries – paintings by Monet, Van Gogh, and Rembrandt. One of my favorites was a picture by Millet called “The Angelus”. In it, peasant farmers pause to pray as they gather their small harvest at the close of day. All the colors of late fall had dripped from the artist’s brush to capture feelings of peace, completion and hope.

I have a dear friend who doesn’t like fall. She is a complete and beautiful “summer” spirit! For her, autumn brings a sense of “closing down”. The freedom of summer evaporates; the heavy sharpness of winter looms. Some of us might feel that way as the sunlit hours shrink. But, for the reflective heart, there are deep blessings in Autumn’s ebbing.

Indeed, fall dances to a different tune from summer. The carefree skip of July becomes the thoughtful stroll of late October. It is a time for gathering, for counting the harvest, for putting up the fuel to sustain us through the winter. It is a time no longer to take things for granted. It is a time to pause and prepare. We begin to consider what the waning year has given us, and what it has taken.

As a child, I lived in a very old home originally built to house the 19th century immigrant factory workers of North Philadelphia. The kitchen, added by my grandfather’s own hands, was unheated. In the 1940s, my dad installed a pot-belly stove to warm this preferred gathering spot for our family.

Dad always left for work before the rest of us woke up. Beginning in the late fall, he would light a fire in that little stove every morning. By the time the rest of us assembled for breakfast, a freshly-perked pot of coffee awaited us atop the stove as a greeting from dad. I associated my father with that comfort and that delicious scent. Although we wouldn’t see him until late at night, his kindness accompanied us in the cozy, inviting kitchen every morning.

As deep October approaches, the earth steeps itself like fragrant tea in its own magnificent colors, but the chill suggests the coming change. Seeing this, I remember Dad and realize, such is the work of autumn:

• to express beauty in the subtle colors of our kindness
• to build the warm fires we know our loved ones will need
• to brew the fresh tonic that wakes others to life and warms them against its sometime chill

It is a time now to glean summer’s final fruits and to wrap ourselves in their bounty; to listen, in the snug quiet of our spirits, to the voice of Love in our lives. What does Love ask of us as winter approaches? For each of us, the answers will be different. In the gathering October stillness, to what does the Divine Spirit invite me?

Music: Autumn “Allegro-Adagio Molto” (The Four Seasons) – Antonio Vivaldi

For Your Reflection:

• What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
• Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
• What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Reading: James 5:7