THE DAY MAMA STOLE THE FIREWOOD...

                                 A THANKSGIVING MEMORY

   I wish there were a photograph, a little instamatic black and white would do, so I could frame it for future generations to enjoy. But there isn't and memories are all that remain.  It was a beautiful fall day; the leaves were at their brightest. The sky couldn't have been any clearer. You could see your breath in the early morning light. It was the mid 1950's. I was 14 and my brother 10. Thanksgiving morning. The family had plans to visit some German friends of my parents, in south Louisiana, later in the day, to share the Thanksgiving meal.

My brother and I were waked up early with Daddy's shrill whistle. He had a way of doing that when he wanted something done immediately. We hopped out of bed and were given orders to hitch a trailer up to the truck and then go with our mother to pick up a load of firewood. 

 Daddy was sending - yes, that is the operative word - the three of us to get the firewood from a place in Buckeye, a small community outside of Alexandria because he had business to take care of. The man owed Daddy money and since he was unable to pay, suggested Daddy take the firewood for payment in exchange. We were to do this before we left for south Louisiana.

After some verbal communication, between the two of them, the three of us set off with an attitude. Mama still had not finished cooking the dish we were to bring, and Buckeye was out in the country with lots of winding roads. She didn't know the area like Daddy did, but could he go? Oh, no.  He had to send her! My brother and I listened to this tirade all the way there.

            We wandered the roads in the country, looking for the house Daddy described.  It was taking too long. Mama, in her madness, had forgotten the exact directions.  (This would not be a problem, today, because of cell phones, but we didn't have that luxury in the 1950's. 

The more we drove the more Mama thought of things she had to do before leaving for Crowley. The more she thought of things she had to do, the more upset she became. The more upset she became, the louder she got. We moved to the backseat as we listened to her tirade against Daddy. She began driving recklessly.

Finally, she spotted a huge pile of wood stacked against a pasture fence, newly cut, close to the road.  “That’s the place,” she said.  “He said the woodpile was not near the house, but close to the road.” 

The house was a good 100 yards away and Mama didn't see the need to knock on their door since we were in a hurry. She backed the trailer up to the pile of wood and ordered us to hurry and load it on the trailer.  

We protested. She yelled at us, “The man knew we would be here today, so no need to knock. Daddy called him, I’m sure.”

 When almost all had been loaded, a woman came out of the house, shouting at us.

 “Who do you think you are?  My husband just cut that wood this morning.  You're stealing our wood,” she shouted. 

Mama snapped.  “I am Mrs. Cecil Blair.  We are not stealing your wood. Your husband owes my husband money, and we are taking this wood for payment. We were to pick it up today.”  

Mama told us to keep loading.  The woman ran into the house saying she was going for her gun. “This woman’s nuts. Hurry,” Mama said and ordered us to finish loading and quickly get in the truck. 

As Mama started the truck a man came roaring down the road, trying to block us. Mama thought he was going to explain things to his wife, but he wasn’t. He was angry. He had a gun. Mama managed to maneuver around him, and we weaved about the road heading for home. We heard shotgun fire. She drove faster.

We arrived home and began unloading the wood while Mama hurried into the house, mumbling bad things about my Daddy, who wasn’t home.

 Suddenly a Sheriff's car drove up. The sheriff got out of his car and asked my brother and I some questions. He sent us inside to get Mama.

We told Mama he wanted her to come outside, but she refused because she had too much to do before we left. The sheriff followed us inside. She told them they could talk with that sorry husband of hers when he returned. 

The sheriff asked how she got the wood. She explained that some man named Mr. Wilson owed her husband some money, that she had to go get it and we didn't have time for this because we were going to Crowley for Thanksgiving with some friends and she still had to finish the dish she was making, bathe and change clothes and make sure all four of us children were getting dressed and ready. 

The sheriff tried to interrupt her, but she didn't hear him and shouted for us, boys, to hurry up.  There was too much to do. 

Finally, the sheriff said, “Mrs. Blair, I understand your frustration, but what did you say the man's name was where you took the wood?” She said, Mr. Wilson out in Buckeye.  He looked at his tablet and said, “Mrs. Blair, you were not at Mr. Wilson's house. You stole that wood. I’m afraid we must arrest you.” 

Thankfully, Daddy arrived home before they took her away.  And, yes, we had to take the wood back before leaving for Crowley. Thank goodness Daddy was friends with the sheriff. I'm sure glad the meal was not planned for the noon time.

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

           The Bleu Crab Café

“A Cajun will always share a recipe with you, but they'll always leave out one ingredient.”  Tourist couple from Baton Rouge

Acts 14:7…and yet he did not leave himself without witness, in that He did good and gave you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness

 

     

 By the time she was six Joyce Eva was making Gumbo at her mother’s side and has been cooking ever since.   She is the owner of the Blue Crab Café in New Orleans.  To see the place, you would never guess that it was a café.  It sits quietly on a street in the French Quarter, another row house among all the other row houses.  The only way to recognize it is the bright lime green paint on the siding and the neon pink porch rail. There is a small sign next to the front door with a picture of a blue crab and the words Joyce Eva’s underneath. But locals just call it The Blue Crab. It is well known to locals and a few fortunate tourists.  They say the food has no comparison, part Creole, part Cajun, part southern and all soul.  The recipes are handed down by her grandmother who was the main cook on her master’s plantation. 

 The Blue Crab Café has been a tradition since the 1870’s.  Joyce Eva, the granddaughter of a slave, is carrying on a family tradition, like her mother and grandmother, of serving the best food around.

 She graduated from the famous Le Cordon Bleu school in Paris, and after working as a Chef in several large cities like Atlanta and Chicago, London, and Paris, came home to take care of her ailing mother and just stayed because family mattered, working part-time in the café.   After her mother died, she decided to remain in New Orleans as the chef of this quaint café. Why not? It already had a following from the locals, and besides, she was not married and had no other family ties.  She needed this quieter life.

 Joyce Eva is the acclaimed author of several bestselling cookbooks on blended Cuisine such as The Taste of Possum and In Pursuit of Poke Salad, or the popular Suck Dem Heads and Crack Dem Crabs.  The Blue Crab cookbook, her latest, contains several mouth-watering recipes such as braised Nutria lips and pickled alligator feet as well as some famous French recipes.    

 Her salad garden is grown outback with all the freshest herbs.  “All my food comes from the heart,” she says.  “Good home cooking is what gets us through the tough times as well as the good.  I cook as if cookin’ for a funeral 'cause, you know, there is nothin’ better than funeral food.  It fills you from head to toe and soothes the soul.  You won’t leave nothin’ on your plate, and you won’t go home hungry.  That’s a fact!” 

 At the Blue Crab, Joyce Eva serves only the finest food on tablecloth-clad tables, real cloth napkins and sterling silver.  The chef works with the highest quality, freshest produce available.  Local favorites are her mustard green salad and of course her award-winning poke salad.  The shrimp, crabs and Gulf fish like red snapper are fresh from the gulf. Her down-home dishes can make your eyes water, reminding you of your mama’s cooking.   

 Her pork chops cannot be compared.  The pork is purchased from a very small, family-owned, organic pig farmer in Slidell because she hasn’t found any cleaner pork to match.  “None of my dishes come from the slaughterhouse, baby.,” she says.  “I shop daily at the fish market for the freshest and all my produce is grown in my own back yard.  My wines are suitable for every palate – from white to rose and red to champagne.  You won't find finer food anywhere else; I guarantee.”

 So, if you are in the mood for soup l'oignon, boeuf bourguignon, con fit de canard or chicken, shrimp and andouille jambalaya, red beans and rice, seafood gumbo, or just some mouthwatering soul food then you must go to the Blue Crab Café. If you can find it. 

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

THE ELEVATOR SHAFT AT EMMANUEL BAPTIST CHURCH

 You know, when little boys are growing up, they can get into all sorts of messes, sometimes without intention.  Sometimes totally on purpose.  This is a lesson on how not to follow the crowd which I didn’t do then.

 I grew up in Emmanuel Baptist Church in Alexandria, Louisiana.  I really cannot recall a time, even into adulthood, when I wasn't involved week to week at that church.  Our whole life revolved around Sundays and Wednesdays there. I had no problems with that.  It was a wonderful life.

 This is a story of a Sunday school class that overlooked an old elevator shaft when I was twelve years old.  An all-boys class.  We were on the second floor of the old building that used to be the sanctuary. It was renovated as an educational building when the new church sanctuary was built on the corner property in 1950.  I was seven. The old sanctuary section was divided into more classrooms for children and the balcony area became extra classrooms for teenagers. The adults had classrooms downstairs.

 When the building was the sanctuary, it had a two-person elevator that went to the balcony. I was told it was built for Mary Calderwood Bolton who had trouble with stairs.  What I most remember, however, was that the Boltons sat on that balcony in rocking chairs on Sunday mornings, after all, they were founding members of Emmanuel.  I also remember going up there when I was six, with a friend, on a Wednesday and rocking in those chairs out of curiosity even though I had been told I should never go to the balcony and sit in those chairs. It was a scary adventure because I was afraid, I might be caught. This was the sanctuary I remembered until 1950 with the beautiful yellow stained glass around the top above the balcony which brought in such a glow to the whole room when the sun was shining. Even as a young child it was ethereal.  During the renovation the elevator was removed, and the empty shaft was left.

 When I was twelve, we were promoted to a new Sunday school room on the second floor. At the back was a window that blocked the shaft. We could look down to the first floor from that window. It was fascinating to twelve-year-old curious boys since inside the shaft was a wooden ladder. We had trouble listening to lessons because our minds wandered and dreamed of being able to explore the bottom of that shaft. During the 1950’s in Sunday school we had an offering envelope with sections to mark like attendance, on time, Bible brought, offering, prepared lesson, preacher attendance. And a place to write our names and the amount we gave each week. Our teacher, Bob Belk, would check these and mark them before leaving us alone while he turned the envelopes in to the secretary down the hall.

 This is when we elbowed each other to get a better look at that forbidden shaft while one was “elected” to stand guard for his return. It was also when we realized that the window was held shut with three or four screws.

 One Sunday we had the bright idea that someone should bring a screwdriver to class so we could loosen the screws when Mr. Belk left the room. Names escape me, but one of us (I’ll just call him Jim) said he could get his daddy’s screwdriver that he kept in his workroom off their garage without his daddy knowing it. He was elected and the next Sunday was to be our escape. The following Sunday we waited in anticipation with silence and sweaty hands.  We made sure Jim set in front of the window. When Mr. Belk left the room, we made a dash to watch him undo the screws, but he was only able to remove one. So, week by week we carefully removed a screw each week, fearful we would be caught.

 The final day arrived; Mr. Belk left the room to turn in our envelopes. We forced the window open, and all climbed down that ladder to the bottom of the shaft closing the window behind us. Our teacher returned to an empty room. He never thought to look down the shaft but I’m sure he searched around the larger meeting room and asked the secretary.  We were scared when we heard the bell ring to end Sunday school because we weren’t sure how we would be able to get ourselves out without being caught. We waited until we were sure church had started before we escaped.  We snuck into the balcony thinking we would be fine.

 Well, we weren’t.  All of our parents had been contacted by Mr. Belk before church started, and one of them saw us sneak up to the balcony. We had a group meeting that Sunday immediately after church with all our parents and the preacher who chastised us severely about our sins and the dangers that could have happened. Our parents let us know how frightened and embarrassed they were, and we were punished.

 Our Sunday school class was moved to a different room after that and our old one was given to the girls. I don’t know who put the screws back on the window, I never went back to check. Lesson learned. Carry on.

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

           

PREPARING A PLACE

 I grew up on a farm around animals. Cows, a donkey, pigs and chickens and a few ducks, that had to be fed and watered. We also had Shetland ponies that were trained and groomed daily since many of them were show ponies.  We had to prepare these ponies for the next event so they could outshine the competition, win trophies and ribbons.  Training a Shetland to stand and pose with his head held high took hours and months of preparation.

The birth of a new animal was always a treasured event. But when a show Shetland pony mare was expecting, there was a different kind of anticipation.  This always took a lot of preparation, especially as the date drew near.  We had to clean a stall, put down fresh hay and water. Towels and blankets had to be nearby to wipe down the foal, after its birth. or to rub down the mare to keep her calm as she went into labor.  Sponges were needed to keep the mare cool. We needed to be prepared in case there was a difficult birth.   When the preparation was finished, we would bring the mare into the stall.   Many a night I would keep a vigilant eye, nestled snugly in the hay, the smells of animals nearby as I sat wrapped in my blanket, focused, and anticipating the birth. 

  I am not a patient person so waiting in anticipation was difficult as I snuggled in a corner of the stall, waiting for what seemed days. Then suddenly it happened, the mare gave birth in the wee hours of the morning. I turned on the light overhead so I could be ready to help if needed. I helped her clean the new foal with sponges and dry it off with the towels, before running to the house rejoicing and shouting, “the baby has arrived.” The whole family rushed to see this beautiful miracle of birth.

  This is December and Christmas is near and today I am reminded of this lesson in the barn around the smelly animals and hay. I’m reminded of the many hours spent preparing and waiting for a birth.   This is December 12^th, and I am reading the 12^th chapter of Luke as I anticipate the birth of my savior. I am thankful for a church that believes in Advent because it helps us prepare, to focus on the birth of Jesus. 

I can just imagine the excitement that Joseph and Mary must have felt as they prepared a stall for the birth of Jesus.  I'm sure Joseph placed fresh hay down for Mary to lie on and he too nestled snugly in the hay, wrapped in a blanket, focused, and anticipating the miracle of birth. 

  My prayer this season is that, as we prepare and wait, our hearts and minds are ready for the coming of Jesus so we can rejoice in this wonderful miracle.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

Groucho Walk

a true story and a great memory.  A Father's Day tribute.

 Daddy had just been elected to his first public office (State Representative for Rapides Parish) under Governor Robert F. Kennon (Dem. 1952-1956) I was nine. 

 
I liked this governor.  He and daddy were good friends, part of the anti-Long administration.  And when I would go to Baton Rouge, I would be left with the governor's secretary while they were in session.  I remember sitting at the governor's desk and coloring or reading comic books which were kept in the right-hand bottom drawer of his desk.  Of course, I like to think that they were kept there just for me, but the truth is, the Governor had 3 sons of his own.

  This story revolves around Governor Kennon calling on the phone one evening. 

Our family was always lively, especially around evening meals.  With four left-handed children and two right-handed parents, some of us ran around as if we were in our right minds...which as you know, it was the four siblings, but also the parents.   I remember one fine meal around the time I was 10.  My two sisters, younger brother and I were all relating our daily activities, each trying to out talk the other while mama and daddy loudly expressed their opinions to each of us.  Our family held a series of monologues all practicing our parts for some final dramatic performance each trying to out stage the other.  I'm sure we sounded like a battle scene in some Shakespearian play.

When really it was much ado about nothing, and I'm equally sure that if one were to view us from the window we would appear as gorillas during mating season.  Arms flailing, standing, sitting, each taking turns moving to mama or daddy for their attention and back again to our seats or someone else's, sharing each other’s meals without anyone noticing whose plate they were eating from.  Mama could

have thrown the food on the floor for all we seemed to care.  The noise must have been deafening.  Yet we all seemed to be getting the attention we desired, and all seemed to be able to fully understand the conversation going on around us.

Suddenly the phone rang. Of course, it would be for daddy.  Being a politician's family left us open for interruptions at any hour, day, or night.  The farmers who got up early would call their politician at the crack of dawn and the night owls would call sometimes as late as midnight or perhaps they would just

 show up in person...kept us on our toes as to clothing outside of the bedrooms.

Daddy answered.  “Hello. Yes, hello Gov. Kennon.  No this is a good time.  How are things down in Baton Rouge?” 

Looking like a pack of well-trained seals, we all fell silent or at least reduced our noise to a few giggles and whispers while moving back to our places and eating our meal while they talked.  Suddenly my brother, Bob, always the clown, could stand it no longer and got up and began a Groucho walk around the table, through the kitchen, into the living room and back through the den.

One by one we joined him in this merry silent protest, each walking bent-legged through the house, flicking our pretend cigars by daddy as we passed him on the phone every time we came around.  After mama joined the troop, we became sillier.  Daddy shook his head.  When we passed daddy on the phone, mama tickled him.  Suddenly daddy said apologetically, “Could you hold a moment, Governor?  I'll be right back.” 

Daddy stood up, squatted to the proper stance, flicked his cigar, and joined the procession, as the caboose, one lap around the house.  We were stifling our giggles as daddy returned to the phone, sat back down, picked it up and said, “Now, Governor, as you were saying, sir....” 

The rest of us continued our Groucho Walk around the house eventually finishing our meal while daddy continued talking.  A normal day in the Blair household.  (Later my daddy was a Louisiana State Senator from 1960-64, and 1966-1976 and considered a colorful raconteur). Happy Father's Day Cecil Blair (we miss you)!

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

The Stained-glass windows of Emmanuel Baptist Church Alexandria, Louisiana, final part.

The upper windows. These windows show Jesus’ parables and preaching, teaching, and healing ministry. On the upper EAST side Starting closest to the altar, we have Jesus calling His disciples. There are only five windows because of the bell tower.

1."Come, I will make you fishers of men."  Matthew 4:19 (no picture)

The next window is Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. (no picture)

2.Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. "I will give you living water." John 4 

(no picture)

3.Parable of the Sower of seeds.  Luke 8:4-15

 

4.Jesus healing the Blind Man John 9 “Receive thy sight. Thy faith hath saved thee.”

5.The last one on the east side is Jesus calming the sea

Even the wind and the sea obey him.

On the WEST side there are six windows.  The WMU window was placed across from the bell tower for symmetry.  It is above the stairwell leading to the balcony.

1.WMU window. The Great Commission.  Matthew 28: 16-20

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. And when they saw him, they worshipped him, but some doubted it.  And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority on heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations…”

I’m highlighting this window because it is of special interest to our congregation because it is personal to our church.

Symbols of note: Top left, Young Women’s Auxiliary, Center top left, Sunbeams. (Do you remember the song we all sang?). Center top right is Girl’s Auxiliary, top right, Royal Ambassadors.  Lower left, Woman’s Missionary Union S.B.C. 1888.

Now on the west side I have only a few pictures.

2.Parable of the Good Samaritan. “Go and do thou likewise.” Luke 10: 25-37.

3.Jesus at Bethany with Mary and Martha (no picture). Luke 10: 38-42

3.Parable of the Sower of seeds.  Luke 8:4-15

4."Let the little children come unto me for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 19:14 (no picture)

5.Widow's Mite.  Luke 21:1-4 (sorry, no picture).

 
6.Close-up of Jesus’ triumphal entry on Palm Sunday. Matthew 21:1-17

Finally, we have the beautiful Rose Window at the back of the balcony (front of the church)

On this window you will find three trefoil (an ornamental design of three rounded lobes like a clover leaf.  In the top one you will find the descending hand from a cloud (God the Father).  The one on the left has a lamb with Christian banner flag (God the Son). On the right is a dove (Holy Spirit).

You will also find three triquetra (a triangular shaped figure composed of three interlaced arcs). Top left has a cross (God’s Suffering).  On the right is an anchor (hope of having eternal life). On the bottom is a bleeding heart (the heart of Jesus to which Christians direct their prayers.) Mostly this is a Catholic symbol, and our Catholic neighbors think it is so cool that we have the bleeding heart as part of our windows.

Standing in the balcony back over the baptistery we see Jesus with outstretched arms palms forward saying “Come Unto Me.” See the lilies? They represent Chasity, Innocence, and purity.  The symbol of Christ. I was baptized here when I was nine by Dr. Franklin Siegler.

Emmanuel’s interior is beautifully preserved, filled with Gothic motifs, even the light fixtures. On the outside of the church, below the rose window is a great gabled façade showing a quatre foil with the church’s name in Gothic script.

This is all the information I have. I hope you enjoyed the history and windows of a church I grew up in which nurtured my soul. Never did I ever think I would work at Emmanuel when I was growing up but I did so for twenty years (more if you count the years, I worked there without being on the staff). I’m so glad I have this historic church as a part of my story. 

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.

 

The Stained-glass windows of Emmanuel Baptist Church Alexandria, Louisiana, part 3

Our subject today is the west side of the windows at Emmanuel. 

When the Alexandria Museum hosted the Heart of Spain exhibit downtown, Emmanuel opened its doors for the public to come and view our magnificent windows.  Several people gave tours. We had not only Alexandrians come visit but people from other states as well as some foreign visitors. All were amazed at the beauty this “little” town had to offer.

THE EASTER WINDOWS

"I am the Good shepherd and I know my sheep.”

  Visible symbols of note:

 snow bells (top left): new beginnings and hope 

sheaves of wheat (upper left): communion 

The Holy Bible is at the center of this window.  It is a symbol of Christian faith.

 gourd (top right): symbolizes the resurrection.

 grape cluster (upper right): the blood of Christ as in the Eucharist.

 
"Nevertheless, not my will, but thine, be done."

 Jesus praying at Gethsemane that this 'cup' be removed, “Not my will but thine be done.”

 (Note cup in God's hands.  This is another great example where the use of silver stain was used).  Here, it is a symbol of death.

Visible symbols of note:  

  cluster of three flowers (top left): Trinity 

 cup and plate (upper left): lord's supper

lily (top right): purity

 cross (upper right): God's suffering

The Holy Bible is at the center of this window.  It is a symbol of Christian faith. It’s the last window with the Bible at the center.

 flowers (beneath Jesus): peace, purity

 

"Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit."

Crucifixion of Jesus
Visible symbols of note:

 white flower, I think it is an iris. (top left): Mary's sorrow at Christ's passion.

 triptych with 6-pointed star in center (upper left): the Star of David.  6-pointed star, the star of Creation. The 6 points stand for the six days of creation. It also represents the 6 attributes of God: power, wisdom, majesty, love, mercy, and justice. It’s also known as the Jewish star.

 oak leaf (top right): Jesus' cross was said to be made from oak. Victory over death. 

broken chain (upper right): Symbolizes Christ's hand reaching from heaven breaking the chains of death.

There is no Bible in the center of this window, instead there is a banner with INRI (a traditional representation in art of the inscription over Christ’s head at the crucifixion) Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. 

 

"He is not here: for he has risen."

 Burial tomb with stone rolled away, “He is not here, He is risen.”  

Visible symbols of note: 

5-point white flower (top left): symbol associated with Christianity. Also, purity.

The Holy Bible is brought back in this window in the center. It is a symbol of Christian faith.

pomegranate with seeds showing (upper left): The fullness of Christ's suffering. The resurrection of hope and eternal life. The many seeds represent the many believers in Christ (the church). It also symbolizes resurrection and power over death. 

single white flower (top right): purity and innocence

 crown with palm branches (upper right): The martyrs' victory in passing through torments to the blessed life in heaven.

 The final window in the Easter Section.

"He was parted from them and carried up into heaven." 

 Jesus' ascension into heaven after blessing His disciples near Bethany.  

Visible symbols of note: 

white rose (top left): innocence and spiritual love 

alpha (upper left): beginning. 

single palm branch (top right): victory

omega (upper right): end

I am the beginning and the end.

This window is also one without a Bible at the center of the scene.  On the Advent windows we have this symbol on all five windows.  On the Easter windows there are only four.

 I hope you are getting some insight into these historically significant windows from the Jacoby glass company.  I only have a few decent pictures of our upper windows.   Next time I’ll be discussing the parables in the upper windows and what they represent. This is when we will discuss the WMU window on the upper level, west, that no one ever sees, since it is over the stairs leading to the balcony on the west.  Remember, it was an add on for symmetry, (thanks to the women of the church). It shows the Baptist symbols, so this is a personal window just for Emmanuel. We will also feature the Rose and baptistry windows.   

© Nippy Blair 2015. Posts and pictures on this blog cannot be copied, downloaded, printed, or used without the permission of the blog owner, Nippy Blair.