Ordinary Time

"This is what is called Ordinary Time," she said, strapping on the watch.

It did not feel ordinary to me. Although it seemed as if two centuries had passed since she arrived, in fact it had only been two days.

"According to the Catholic liturgical calendar," she explained, "all the days of the year that are not Lent, Easter, Advent, or Christmas are called Ordinary Time. So here we are: Easter is over and Christmas is still a long way off. I guess you could say that this is the time in which we're meant to feel that we have all the time in the world."

I could see then what she meant. Ordinary Time is all those days that blend one into the next without exceptional incident, good or bad; all those days unmarked by either tragedy or celebration. Ordinary Time is the spaces between events the parts of a life that do not show up in photo albums or get told in stories. In real life, this is the bulk of most people's lives. But in literature, this is the part that doesn't make it into the book. This is the line space between scenes, the blank half-page at the end of a chapter, and the next one begins with a sentence like: Three years later he was dead.

Ordinary Time is all those days you do not remember when you look back on your life. Unless, of course, the Virgin Mary came to visit in the middle of it and everything was changed: before and after; then and now; past, present, and future.

Our Lady of the Lost and Found
by Diane Schoemperlen

Some people like Advent or Christmas best. I know that Penni really loves Lent. Me? I like ordinary time, that regular time when things are just going along and we can enjoy regular life. The big holidays and events are great also but there is nothing like ordinary time to me.