Twenty Something / Christina Capecchi

This ‘Old House,’ Catholic edition, bring Minnesota mom ‘ the greatest joy’

There was a time when Katherine Louise DeGroot didn’t consider quiet suburbs or small towns. She was a city girl, thank you very much, and it suited her work as a nanny and a photographer.

Katherine was always on the go, hustling to book the next gig, racing to beat the clock. It was exciting.

It took a beautiful house to lure Katherine from Minneapolis to Stillwater, Minn., an old town on the St. Croix River. Perched on a hill beside a maple tree, the house beckoned to her: an 1872 Gothic Revival Victorian with a towering roof, pointed arches, decorative gables and a hydrangea-lined front porch.

Katherine swooned over the windows. “Some of them have that antique glass in them so that, when the light filters in, it feels exceptional,” she said.

The price was a stretch for Katherine and her husband, Seth, who at the time were parents to a 10-month-old. They were aware of other interested parties. But they put in an offer, which was accepted, and financially they made it work.

It was time to leave the city behind.

Slowly the little family made the big house their own. They repainted it, replacing the dark green walls with soft blues, greens and pinks. They lined the nursery with creamy floral wallpaper that feels like the endpapers of an old children’s book. They filled the house with thrifted finds and hand-me-downs: a pine chest, an antique pie safe-turned-armoire, a vintage cradle. And they grew their family there. Katherine gave birth to three children in the house, bringing their count to six.

As Katherine cared for the house, the house cared for her. Homemaking reshaped her heart—slowing her pace, softening her edges, guiding her parenting and, ultimately, leading her back to the Catholic Church.

A reversion was underway. The faith of her childhood looked different now. More beautiful, more true.

“It was clear that the house was special, yes, and it was going to be part of our faith journey,” said Katherine, who is now 37. “That’s what it’s all about.”

The parish on their street, St. Michael’s Catholic Church—nearly visible from their home—has become central to their family. Living liturgically and seasonally has become the heartbeat of daily life.

“Time moves slower here,” she said. “It’s been really special to embrace our life here. I’ve felt so creative. The absence of the hustle didn’t remove my creativity. The slowness and the quiet have invigorated it.”

Her senses have been reawakened. “When it rains,” she said, “the house feels like a jewel box. It has this special feeling—and it has to do with the windows.”

A history minor in college, Katherine has delighted in researching their house, which is referred as “the Castle House” for its builder, John Castle, a state senator. He is something of a patron saint to Katherine, who framed his picture in their dining room.

“I feel like there’s a blessing from him over our family,” she said. They even used his nickname, James, for their second-born’s middle name.

“Taking care of an old house feels like a calling and a responsibility,” Katherine said. “We’ve had to do expensive repairs. Our hot water went out in the winter once. But we want to be wise stewards and add to the house and honor its dignity, just like we would to anything given to us from God, like our children or our Earth or a beautiful gift from someone.”

Generosity is part of stewardship—which for Katherine, means practicing hospitality. Every Sunday, she and Seth cook a big dinner for family members and friends from church. And she shares the house with strangers on Instagram (@katherinelouisedegroot), which she considers a ministry.

Creating this life with her family is deeply fulfilling, Katherine said. “It’s the greatest joy of my life.”
 

(Christina Capecchi is a freelance writer from Inver Grove Heights, Minn.) †