Christmas Letter 2014

Blessed Christmas Season and Happy New Year to ALL

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Dear Ones,

This is sent with the hope that you and your families and communities are enjoying these special days; that they have enriched your relationships, extended your love and made memories for a lifetime. As I begin to write and look back on this year I am amazed at the amount and variety of events that have transpired; all the challenges, all the joys, all the new experiences (some that I would not trade at all and others that I could have easily done without). Where does the time go and how does life get so complicated?

Late in 2013 we welcomed Matilda Anne Pleva, daughter of Teresa and Andrew, into the world. She appears above back in October with her adoring cousin Nicholas, son of Kim and Jonathan, and now almost 11 years old. Here he is in another picture with his brother Benjamin who just celebrated his 8^th birthday. Jonathan and family moved from Waterbury, CT to Chelmsford, MA to which he was transferred as a Boy Scout Council Executive. Theirs is a very busy family.

 

Now little Matilda has a new cousin who arrived on November 1, 2014, Harrison Cooper Pleva, son of Heidi and Matthew. He is just adorable and I can’t wait to get my hands on him again. Heidi and Matthew also juggle a great deal in their lives with regular jobs and their shop “Art Riot” on John Street in Kingston. Matt’s tour de force this year was painting an outdoor mural (35 x 65ft.) depicting historic Kingston and the Old Dutch Church. Hard on the heels of Harrison’s birth came the installation of another holiday window designed by Matt for the Blue Cashew shop in Rhinebeck.

 

Teresa and Andrew are about to close on purchase of a house whose history will be a blessing to them. In a few weeks they will moved into 41 Lafayette Avenue, Kingston just 2 blocks from the house in which Andrew grew up and where Matthew and family live now. Everyone really wanted to be near each other and create family for the children. The 1920s vintage house belonged for over 50 years to a couple who were pillars of the church and most generous souls so a loving spirit will surround them there. The house which was very well maintained has an extra bedroom and full bath on the first floor, a wrap-around porch, three 2^nd floor bedrooms and a walk-up attic with some finished space and built-in cedar closet. The new life and new homes are answers to prayer and a call to gratitude at the end of this year.

 

There were challenges too during which the appeal to God was for the gifts of wisdom and compassion. In May my mother who was being treated for pneumonia fell during the night in her assisted living bedroom. She got a bad gash on her head and lay in a pool of blood for a long time. Nothing was broken but she required hospitalization for a week and then nursing home placement to recoup from the fall and the pneumonia. So I searched for a better choice than the 3 other nursing homes she has spent time in during the last 2 years. We settled on Putnam Ridge in Brewster, NY about a 35 minute drive from me and an hour less in travel time then to Tuxedo for my sister living in Connecticut. Rose was still heavily involved in the task of selling my parents’ house. That was accomplished in July.

 

When my mother went to the nursing home she just wanted to be left alone to sleep and had to be fed at meals. We assured the staff that she was walking independently the day before her fall and would come back to life. By the middle of July she had indeed become herself but all agreed she could no longer live safely in assisted living. So Putnam Ridge has become her permanent home.

 

No sooner was the decision made than we learned that her brother, my Uncle Joseph Milazzo age 82, had collapsed in a laundromat in Margate, FL near his home. I flew down on July, 26. His condition was very poor and it was clear that he could not live alone any longer. I worked furiously to get necessary legal documents created, organize his papers, put his condo into some order, dispose of a great deal and supervise his care as he went from hospital to nursing home, back to hospital and then back to nursing home in the space of 2 weeks. Since he was too ill to travel on a commercial plane and I was unable to stay in Florida permanently, we decided to fly him to NY via private air ambulance jet and place him in the nursing home with my mother. They enjoyed a loving reunion in mid-August. But his condition continued to deteriorate. Although we knew his condition was poor we were surprised by his sudden death on October 3^rd. He now rests in St. John’s Cemetery in Queens where his mother was buried in 1932 when he was just 3 months old. My uncle worked hard all of his life as a master carpet mechanic. He never married; he lived well but not extravagantly. He played the market and later settled into reliable investments. As generous as he was in life he could be as generous in death. At this time both my sister and I are dealing with all the responsibilities which follow upon the deaths of both my uncle my father. We have learned a great deal; everything is very complicated even with the aid of lawyers and accountants.

 

My mother is being well taken care of but the sight of her in the Memory Wing of the nursing home among patients with similar dementia symptoms and many others so much farther along the way in their gradual total departure from reality is often difficult to bare. I remind myself that her manner indicates that she is nothing but content and feeling safe. She walks with a walker but is getting even slower. She does not remember that her brother was there and she rarely asks about my father. We worry only about falls and pneumonia.

 

For years I have not traveled too much with exception of trip to Ireland in 2011. This year brought trips to Sioux Falls, SD in January to transfer our sewing business to another community; to Indianapolis, IN for an Association of Contemplative Sisters leadership meeting; to Florida during the summer; and to St. Louis in September for ACS national meeting. While these were all lovely experiences I find air travel very uncomfortable and arduous.

 

A month before the trip to Florida I had hip surgery to correct some unanticipated problems after hip replacement in 2010 – residual pain from a muscle rubbing against the artificial hip joint and also a bone spur beneath it. Surgery at NYU Hospital for Joint Diseases was a great experience – just a 2 day stay.

 

Our community continues to live the blessing of sharing a monastery with the Carmelite nuns. In May we moved our three sisters from assisted living in Mt. Vernon, NY to the infirmary (Lourdes Health Care) of the School Sisters of Notre Dame in Wilton CT. Sr. Mary had begun to experience seriously declining health. We supported her through a number of hospitalizations both before and after the move to Wilton. Our much beloved sister passed into the arms of God on December 9. So at this writing, as we decorate for Christmas, we are still processing the loss of our sister. In February, we had supported the Carmelites in their loss of Sr. Michael Ann, a very dear and wise person who was the first prioress of the union of three Carmelite communities which came together here in 1998.

Each day I seem to be playing catch up with the list of things to do; paper work and phone calls for family matters, secretarial work for the community, household chores, managing our various sites on the internet (see links below), writing for blogs and other publications, knitting for our on-line shop and for the new babies in my life. But distractions abound and other things come along to take precedence. I try to visit my mother once a week. When I can I find time to do the writing I am drawn to – opinion or memoire pieces that I publish to my blog, an essay for our Order’s international publication, and lately meaningful obituaries.

 

So often I find myself moving into default mode and thinking I should call Dad and Mom about some article I have seen that would interest them; share a story about the new ones in the family; tell them about something wonderful I found among my uncle’s things; ask for a recipe or practical advice; or seek philosophical discussion of the fate of our world. Then I face the fact that none of this is possible any longer. I have passed into the mode of being the one who receives those calls from my own children who want to share an achievement, recount the vagaries of the home buying experience these days, tell of a child’s new stage of development, or ask about advisable treatment for childhood illness. All very gratifying, but also reminding of years passing all too quickly. Another reminder came in the death of my father’s best friend, Vito Capuco of Annapolis, MD in September. They met at City College in 1948. As I moved among his dear family and their many friends at wake and funeral the memories came in almost overwhelming waves.

 

I look forward to the year 2015 which will include some travel, time to do some things pushed aside for too long. It will include celebration of our Sr. Lydia’s 50^th jubilee of vows; Jonathan running in the Boston Marathon in a fundraising effort on behalf of a charity which emerged from the Newtown tragedy; Teresa and Andrew moving into their new home.

 

Have been praying for all of you throughout  the Advent Season, our Christmas Novena and these days of the solemn feast of the Incarnation. I am drawn particularly to the needs of long married couples experiencing the challenges of ageing, the suffering of refugees and those enduring violence of any kind, as well as the fate of our planet.

 

Thank you for the gift you are to me and for the continuing relationship which is only blessing. Best wishes to you and yours for the coming year. Stay in touch. It means so much.

May God bless us all.    
With the assurance of prayers and with much love,

                                                       Hildegard

E-mail: hpleva@gmail.com

Personal Blog:  MonasticMusingsOSsR.blogspot.com

Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/HildegardPleva

Community Website and Blog:  http:/www.RedNuns.org
Community Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/RedNunsEsopus
Monastery On-Line Shop: www.etsy.com/shop/RedNunsRoberie

Shop Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/RedNunsRoberie

More History from World War II Letters

 

 

 

 

 

 



 

Helmut Eric Nimke - 1944

The limits of time - only 24 hours in each day - do not allow for concentrated effort in completely processing the cache of letters written by my mother and father during WWII. Therefore my reportage concerning what they reveal is a bit strung out here. But I know there are readers who look forward to reading more.

 

Just found this post in draft form stashed in the "files" of this blog. Just can't let it go to waste even if there is little I can add at this time. The letter above seems to have been a joint communication by men in my father's squadron who are dismayed by the injustices they observe in Meridian, Mississippi. Bear in mind that 10 years later Meridian would be at the epicenter of the Civil Rights Movement.

 

Below are two enclosures from the letters. They are followed by a letter in which justice issues are spoken of yet again.

Soldier Reports on Jim Crow

My father died only five months ago and it remains difficult for me to live in acceptance; to believe that his formidable personality, intellect and influence are no longer present in my life. Yet in memory; in the way I think; in what I appreciate; in the faithfulness of my life he is surely present.  Many treasured objects also conjure his presence. These days it is this trove of letters that make him so very alive in my thoughts. Enthusiastic response to previous mention of these letters here and their historical significance  prompt me to revisit them. The letters were exchanged between my parents from mid-1943 to November 1945 and cover the period just before his draft into the US Army Air Corps; his stateside service largely in Meridian, Mississippi, one semester of study at Georgia Tech, Atlanta; their marriage in August 1943; two periods of living together near the base; and his overseas assignment to an air weather reconnaissance squadron on Guam in the Pacific. In the spring of 1944, the period discussed here, my father was a few months short of his 23rd birthday. He graduated from a New York city public high school in the Bronx and completed about three semesters of City College of the City University of New York. When he received his draft notice he was working as a machinist apprentice.

Demonstration for Voting Rights Act of 1965

We have recently celebrated the history-making, soul uplifting event of the 1963 March on Washington, a plea for the civil rights of all citizens of the nation. We have also marked the 50th anniversary of the bombing of a Birmingham, Alabama church which killed four young girls just weeks after the March. It is with these events in mind that I have been reading my father's letters and appreciating his witness to a time some have forgotten, to atrocities hard to comprehend. His reflections provide such valuable context to our acts of remembering; the context of full appreciation of the situation that existed in our country at that time and long before.

Many comments about the sad plight of the of the Negroes are sprinkled through Dad's letters. By March, 1944 my father had spent over a year in Mississippi and my mother had joined him there for about six weeks. Each had become all too familiar with the Jim Crow south. With his letter of March 22 begins a brisk exchange concerning events of the kind caused him to write on March19, "No Sweetheart, there is nothing in this damn South, not even the joy of Spring - nothing but hatred and discrimination."

Many have said to me, "You should write a book." I resist because I know what research would be required. I've had to do some here to get the full import of this episode. Turns out that a Senator from Mississippi, Theodore Bilbo, a Democrat, had risen through the ranks to become head of the Senate's District of Columbia Committee. It has been said that he ruled the city like a plantation owner. He called Clare Booth Luce a "nigger lover"; praised Hitler; and declared  that whites were "justified in going to any extreme to keep the nigger from voting." For years he blocked anti-lynching laws."  In his book Washington Goes to War journalist David Brinkley wrote:

Bilbo seemed to hate everyone: communists, Jews, union leaders, union members, anyone who could, by any definition, be called a foreigner, and above all, of course, blacks. And Bilbo never hesitated to make his hatreds known.

When he ran for the Senate in 1934, he denounced an opponent as "a cross between a hyena and a mongrel...begotten in the nigger graveyard at midnight, suckled by a sow, and educated by a fool."

When he received a hostile letter from a woman named Josephine Piccolo in New York City, he wrote back and addressed her: "Dear Dago."

As one of the nation's most outspoken racists, Bilbo hated the fact that nearly half the residents of the city he helped administer were black. "If you go through the government departments," he once said, "there are so many niggers it's like a black cloud around you." He repeatedly introudced a bill to deport all Negroes to Africa and once suggested that Eleanor Roosevelt be sent with them and made their "queen." Throughout his tenure on the district committee, Bilbo judged almost every proposal on the basis of its effect on race relations. Anything that might benefit blacks -- and in a city whose black population was growing rapidly, that was most things -- he opposed. Nothing outraged him more than the effort in 1941, by blacks themselves, to confront racial discrimination in employment.

That sets the stage for my father's reportage on March 22

Mia Dia,

As always, the radio in Tech Supply was babbling to itself this afternoon - being peacefully ignored in talk and in the hard rain outside. It continued to be ignored until it drew attention to itself with the outbursts that made all of us, there in the building, keep quiet and lend our ears to the most criminal and flagrant contribution to [the] Negro problem I ever heard.

Darling, you've never heard anything like this. You've seen it, being here, but to have heard this is to gain insight into problem as the South sees it - or should I say refuses to see it.

I am only sorry that a printed copy of the speech is not available...but the best I can do now is to as you to accept these quotations. We were all so moved that Kuspeil said, "That man is starting the next war right now." I can't write what I said.

The issue was the Mississippi (?) broadcast of a speech by Senator Bilbo made from the state capital - Jackson where he addressed the legislative bodies of this fair state in joint session. The subject, which must keep these warped people awake at night, was the Negro and social equality.

From the start you could see the vicious farce the whole thing was with half an eye. For the benefit of the untrained audience he seemed to adopt a benevolent attitude, but he gave himself away with some of the worst hateful and bared faced statements I ever heard. Remember they came from a Senator for State consumption.

He covered his subject, beating the drum of White Supremacy, the Negroes Place and the Color Line in the well worn language of the Baiter, he finally came to the climax of his comparison between the North and the South. Stating this climax as if the North had the worst disease known to mankind - rather than seeing it for the southern problem that it is.

He hit his nail on the head like this. In bringing up the "dreadful progress" the negro is making toward equality he mentioned the equality extended the Negro at the Washington [DC] C.I.O. canteen. Here, he said, an equal number of whites and negroes were served in the same place by an equal number of white and Negro waitresses - all eating together. With this he illustrated his point, kept quiet a moment to let it sink in, and the brought up the artillery. "Can we conceive of such a thing, such unheard of social equality?"

That Honey, is unheard of for this man of the stone-age - twice the Governor of this beautiful State.

But the real dynamite came later when continuing to analyze what trouble the North is creating by extending equality - get that Sweet - we create the problem, not they. He said, "If the North thinks we want to live like that, we will tell them, our nigger lovin' Yankee Friends, to go straight to Hell." And that is a quotation.

So this is how they solve a problem. No, in reality he's not trying to do that, only to maintain the whites here on the backs of the Negroes. By the way, he couldn't say that word - he said "Nigger".

But he belied his false benevolent attitude by saying, "White Negro lovers should be treated like we treat the niggers." This swept away all he said about negro benefits here, bringing into focus the fact that much treatment is considered the worst punishment. Then how are the Negroes treated with benevolence?

The shabbiness of his argument also appeared when enumerating the rights of equality a negro has here, he drew laughter from the audience by saying they have equal space rights on public conveyances. Yes, its a joke to them. But I'd hate to be in their shoes when the negro turns the worm here. These people can't see the problem for what it is, they refuse to recognize it as their Frankenstein - rather, they feed it. He pointed to our difficulty with the riots, but didn't mention that these were caused whenever color lines were drawn - to the just resentment of the negro. Those lines are dirty rags these southerners drag up with them and see them stimulated by the enemy to create conflict. Actually we have much less resentment and strife than they do here, where they are sitting on a volcano they've built themselves.

Honey, I am pretty sore tonight.

In his next letter my father enclosed a newspaper clipping from the editorial page of the Jackson, Mississippi Daily News of March 20, 1944.  Bilbo was not a lone racist mad man in a position of power. The editorial reads:

 

GO STRAIGHT TO HELL

 

An (sic) United Press dispatch from Washington says:"The United States office of education

 today called on white educational institutions in the South to open their doors to negro scholars."

 

And here's telling the responsible head of the United States department of education, whoever

 he may be, to go straight to hell.

 

The South won't do it - not in this generation and never in the future while Anglo-Saxon blood

continues to flow in our veins.

 

Nobody but an ignorant, fat-headed ass would propose such an unthinkable and impossible action.

 

The speech and the editorial appeared in 1944, 19 years before the March on Washington in 1963 and 21 years before the Voting Rights Bill was enacted as the law of the land.

 

The story will continue in the next post.

 

The Art of Letter Writing

Letter from Sgt. Helmut "Eric" Nimke, June 1943, to Matilda "Pat" Milazzo
Eric is 21 years old and Pat is 18 years old

 

My father lived into his 92nd year and Mom is plugging away as she approaches 90. Last August 3rd would have been their 70th wedding anniversary. So even though my birth places me just in advance of the official "Baby Boomer" cohort their long lives have brought me late to grieving the death of a parent. Many of my fellow 'boomers" have already experienced this as yet another rite of passage, an experience that brings deep reflection and arrival at a new place in life. I have already experienced the realization that I, wonder of wonders, am now an elder.

This experience also brings many tasks with it. One that has occupied my sister and I for months is that of sifting through all their treasures; all that they saved so they wouldn't forget; all they gathered and kept around for the sheer beauty and preciousness of each item.

My current project is that of organizing and preserving a cache of over 1,000 letters exchanged by my parents from the fall of 1942 to the fall of 1945; from my father's induction into the Army Air Corps and his return from overseas service in Guam (Pacific Theater).

As a student of history, a professional librarian and now archivist, I believe this collection will be a valuable addition to any collection of WW II materials. They will eventually go to a research institution. But now I am reading them, putting them in protective sleeves and then binders. I know the rest of the family will want to see them. But there are so many - eventually perhaps 15 binders - that no one will really have the time to read them all. So I flag the interesting or touching ones, the ones that offer valuable commentary on the way of the military, conditions on the home front, conduct of the war, national and international politics and especially some new insight or revelation concerning family events and persons.

This telegram dated July 2, 1943, four days before scheduled wedding in Brooklyn, NY reads:
 "Darling - Furlough cancelled before my eyes 4pm - Crying as I write this - Am proceeding to
 Key Field Meridian 11:15pm as per orders Adjutant General Washington -
 Even Colonel does not know why - Call everything off - Be a soldiers wife -
Will buck like hell for furlough at Field - Nothing definite - Another wire will follow -
Yours forever - Eric"



This letter is really three pages with writing on both sides of each sheet in my father's very small
handwriting. Written in pencil these are particularly difficult to decipher. But plainly seen is the USO
emblem at the top and the admonition "Idle Gossip Sinks Ships" at the bottom of each sheet.



The love that my mother and father found in each other at such a young age is quite incredible. Their story deserves retelling. More to come.

Most Recent Challenge

Many years ago Dad told me there was a box of them in the attic; a box of all the letters he and my mother exchanged while he was in the Army Air Corps during World War II. He told me because I was amazed that he came up with the letters they exchanged at Easter in 1945 just before I was born. He had dutifully climbed the pull down stairs, uncovered the box and searched through his collection and hers for the Easter time letters. The effort was in response to my request that year to each family member attending our Easter dinner at Mom and Dad's to come prepared to share a memory of Easter from the past. Little did I know how far back Dad would go.

So as we disturbed my parents' home, a home so carefully and loving decorated and arranged in the work of two lifetimes, I knew what the attic had in store for us. A box measuring 18x15x15 inches was packed with letters meticulously bundled and organized so that Mom's letters to Dad were on the bottom and his letters to her on the top. There are easily over a thousand letters, the vast majority two or more pages in length. Interspersed in the collection are letters from others - family and friends and men in the service.

I have opened and read letters from the fall of 1942 to the fall of 1943 and filled five large loose leaf binders with archival plastic sheet protectors each containing one letter and its envelope. All the letters (newspaper clippings, magazine articles, concert programs, etc.) are in wonderful condition but envelopes a bit ragged.

This is not the only process involved here. The other is deciding where this valuable collection should eventually go. And valuable they are. Stay tuned.

Our Community Christmas Letter

From Your Redemptoristine

Sisters

Advent 2011

We come to you this Advent in the posture of Naomi and Ruth, Mary and Joseph: standing together at the crossroads journeying to a new home: Bethlehem.

Both couples were living in a time of mystery.  Naomi, a widow, decided to return to her native land, Bethlehem, and her daughter-in-law Ruth joins her saying, “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.”  And it can be imagined that as Mary and Joseph journeyed together in a time of expectant wonder to be registered in Bethlehem they said similar words to each other.    And we, Redemptoristines in Esopus, echo that sentiment.  

We began the New Year with a visit from the new Redemptorist Provincial of the Baltimore Province, Rev. Kevin Moley and his Council. They came to inform us about the decision made by their Chapter to end Redemptorist ministries at Mount St. Alphonsus in Esopus come January of 2012.  This startling news held ramifications for us as we were told the whole property would be leased out and we would have to move to a new location next Spring.    Thus our search began.

Along the way we have been helped by many generous people with advice and leads to houses and convents in the Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey and Massachusetts area.  We even looked into a place in West Virginia!  Most of the places we visited, either on the Internet or in person, were not suitable for a monastery.  Most old convents sit on small plots of land overshadowed by other buildings.  They tend to be in disrepair and in need of renovation to permit our sisters to age gracefully within the monastery and for all of us to live fully our contemplative life. And even the luxury houses we investigated did not have the right configuration for a chapel, bedrooms, workspace, library, community room and offices, not to mention that they were outside our financial resources.  

We do have hope and faith, expectant wonder, trusting that God is journeying with us in some mysterious way to our new home; a monastery where we can continue to live together our life of adoration, praise and intercession. 

This has been a bittersweet year of last times: the last time for the celebration of our Triduum in honor of Our Mother of Perpetual Help in this monastery; the last barbeque on the patio, the last beautiful autumn colors on the trees of this magnificent property, the last stroll down to the Hudson River, the last celebrations of Thanksgiving and Christmas…  

Other news:

We were blessed to be able to care for our Sr. Peg at home, with the help of the wonderful people of Hospice, during her final months.  Sister died peacefully on February 21, 2011, with the community surrounding her with love and prayers.  

We participated in three programs of the Metropolitan Association of Contemplative Communities this year: The Effects of Modern Technology on Contemplative Religious Life with Sr. Lynn Levo, CSJ; The Implementation of the Third Typical Edition of the Roman Missal: A Moment of Recognitio! with Sr. Sandra DeMasi, SSJ and Msgr. Richard Groncki; and Women Working for Peace with United Nations NGO Sr. Margaret Mayce, OP.

Our fifteen lay Associates met regularly on the second Sunday of the month for input concerning our charism, to deepen their prayer life and support one another in order to follow the way of Jesus, making the redeeming love of God present in their daily lives.

We were blessed to have Fr. Ronald McAinsh, CSsR Provincial from the London Province, as our Retreat Director. His timely reflections were on “Transitions: Physical, Generational, Emotional and Spiritual.” 

We mourn the loss this year of Redemptorist Fr. Joseph Opptiz who made our foundress known throughout the world with his book, The Mystic Who Remembered: The Life and Message of Sister Maria Celeste Crostarosa OSsR.  We published this popular book a number of years ago and next year we plan to publish a third run.  

On December 7, 1957 six Redemptoristines came from Canada to begin the first foundation of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer in the United States in Esopus.  This December 7^th, to celebrate our 54^th year we invite the local religious and lay Associates for a Vigil Service for the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, as a way of thanking them for their friendship and prayerful support throughout the years. 

As we journey through this time of Advent, and as our Christmas gift, you and your loved ones will have a special remembrance in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass December 16^th to 24^th during our Novena before Christmas.   On those evenings after Vespers we extinguish all the lights and pray by the glow of the Advent wreath for your intentions with these words:

‘Adore, oh my soul, in the bosom of Mary,

the only begotten Son of God,

who became man for love of you.’

In the coming months, when we have made our definitive plans, we will let you know our new address and contact information.  In the meantime, if you wish to make a donation to help us in the moving process and making our new monastery handicapped accessible, we would greatly appreciate your gift.

May the Prince of Peace be your companion on the journey of life,

and grant you joy and blessings now and always,  

Love and prayers, Your Redemptoristine Sisters

Redemptoristine Nuns of New York

P.O. Box 220

Esopus, New York 12429-0220

845-384-6533

RedNuns.Esopus@gmail.com

http://www.redemptoristinenunsofnewyork.org/

Blog: www.MonasticMusingsOSsR.blogspot.com

Sisters Moira, Mary Anne, Maria Linda, Mary Jane,

Paula, Mary, Maria Paz, Lydia, Hildegard