I have been fascinated by spring’s unfolding this year, my first in Toronto since 1994. A collection of morning walk photos describes its gradual emergence – attesting to snowdrops and crocuses pushing up through the snow, to my first sighting of green leaf tips on the 7th of April, to magnolia, daffodils and apple trees coming into bloom – beauty after beauty insisting on the next of life’s miracles. Mom’s practiced eye and keen smell alerted me to bloodroot decorating the forest floor, the promise of wild strawberries, grapes and red currants, the newest blossom, the considered efforts of robins and cardinals to safeguard their nests. We delighted in the return of the blue heron from its winter migration, a threesome of deer nibbling at fresh growth, frogs croaking happily in a nearby pond alongside turtle young sun-bathing on a log.
A family of geese caught our attention in particular – the two adults patiently tending their three goslings from their first waddling steps through days of the serious business of foraging enough to grow strong. In past classes on leadership, I would draw lessons from the behavior of geese flying in V formation, each creating uplift for the goose behind it, adding to the whole flock’s flying range; the regular rotation of the “lead goose” so that it does not become overly tired; the readiness to drop out of formation to accompany a goose that gets sick; the honking encouragement to maintain group speed – so much to learn about community and collaboration from their instinctive wisdom. Visiting the goose family day after day offered me new perspectives this year, as I witnessed the commitment and cost of caring – soaring flights to terrains of choice converted for a time to a relentless land-bound vigilance. It is a joy to celebrate the fruit of this tending – awkward vulnerability edging toward independence, leaning into strength.
Some days, after catching up on the evening news, filled so often with destruction and anguish, I head down to the riverside once again. Catching sight of the goose family, the lament of Jesus comes easily to mind, “…how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings.…” (Matt 23:37). The longing is palpable and, committing the world’s suffering to immeasurably tender hands, I claim its hope.
Soon, now, wild berries will ripen, and young geese will, for the first time, fly.
Claudia Stecker is a Sister of Our Lady of the Missions (RNDM). She was missioned to the Philippines in 1997 and worked as an educator, first, in Cotabato, at Notre Dame University, and, later, in Manila, at Asian Social Institute. Her subject areas included pastoral sociology, leadership, music and education. Claudia was also employed by Kuya Center for Street Children where she took part in establishing a microfinance initiative among urban poor families. Over the years, Claudia served the congregation, too, in leadership, formation and finance management, returning to Canada in 2021. From 2023, she has been missioned to New York, USA, where she serves as a host community member in a LifeWay Network safehouse for women survivors of human trafficking.
Your poignant reflection on springtime (after years of being away from home) reminds me of how much I love the four seasons, each with its own encyclopedia of wise teachings. Thanks for heightening my awareness and longing…
Your writing is so attentive to the beauty and mystery all around you – and, in your careful telling, I am also able to walk with you and your Mother as you take in the blue heron, the goose family, the sights and scents of creation renewed.