I was a substitute teacher, and he was a 13-year-old boy. His face, still chubby with childhood, was framed by greased black hair that formed two spit curls at his temples. First he came and told me that he could not participate in physical education class that day because he would get his shoes mud
Faith in Focus
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Cat Fights
The girl who plows into my 13-year-old daughter as we stroll through the park at the annual Mountain Festival is solid. She is pierced with studs in odd places. Her tank top just covers her adolescent breasts. The force of her forward-pumping legs nearly knocks my daughter off her feet, and she stag
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A Missionary’s Funeral
On the second full day I was in Nairobi, Kenya, I had the privilege of concelebrating at the funeral Mass for John Anthony Kaiser, a priest of the Mill Hill Missionaries, who had been killed after serving in western Kenya for over 36 years. His as-yet unidentified killers fired a shotgun into the ba
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Explainer: Who was Mother Katharine Drexel, the second American-born saint?
Mother Katharine Drexel founded schools nationwide, including Xavier University, and a religious order to serve people of color.
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What Father Knows Best
The turn in spirit is inevitable, a sudden ambivalence. Longing for a few hours without the kids, I rush around the house preparing the children for a day with a care provider other than myself. With eager anticipation I spread the peanut butter and jelly. I wash the breakfast dishes, pack extra clo
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The Slothful Pray-er
I am a slothful pray-er. At Mass I pray standing up, kneeling or sitting along with the flock. But at home I seem to pray more earnestly—in a prone position. Sheer laziness, probably, but I rationalize the act by assuring myself that God doesn’t mind. The posture isn’t important, n
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Feeding His Sheep
The other day a friend called to tell me her newborn boy had been rushed to the hospital. The doctors had discovered a serious heart defect. "What can I do?" I immediately asked. The answer was simple enough. She needed companionship as she camped out day and night in the I.C.U. waiting ro
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A Healing Society
I smiled at John, lying on the couch with 7-month-old Carl sleeping on his stomach. Following two difficult miscarriages, Carl’s birth was truly a miracle for us, and we reveled in the wonder of our child. John noted my gaze and quietly whispered, "Amy, if I ever die, make sure you tell C
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One Year After Columbine
Perhaps the N.R.A. has met its match. All the money in the world cannot contend with the rage of a mother torn from her child.
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A Place of Faith
I stepped gingerly into the room. It was only my third week volunteering at the nursing home, and I was still very unsure of myself. A curtain enclosed the bed, and a fan slowly moved its head back and forth, lazily stirring the air and muffling all sounds. I gently pushed aside the curtain and peek