Morning Star

Drizzling rain. Mid-30 degrees. Pick your movie/film, watch, and write a reflective essay as a college assignment. Perfect time to curl up on the couch and enjoy another world. I wasn't quite sure what to expect from "Transformers." I remembered the cartoon original as a little kid. Seemingly ordinary cars, trucks, and helicopters would transform into good and evil robots. Awesome battles would erupt between the opposing forces. Of course, the good Autobots always won. What stuck in my head were the last five words intoned as the show faded out: "More than meets the eye." This 2007 version is not bad. The robots are visually believe-able in their transformation and humanly logical in their motives to find the Cube, in which lies the fate of their planet. Sam Witwicky is the ordinary high school student looking for love and ends up getting called to be courageous by protecting the Cube from the evil Decepticons. Although, the Autobots have sworn to pr

Screaming headache... blocked breathing... slow paralysis of limbs... It was a cold and I was in no mood to go out. However, when your sister hasn't seen a friend in months, you can't just say no. We headed down to Saigon Mall for lunch where Elizabeth promised that the food court had a little bit of everything for everyone. It was not a far ride from Our Mother of Perpetual Help parish (Giáo Xứ Đức Mẹ Hằng Cứu Giúp) and Sơ Thủy had met Elizabeth on our way in to give a guest talk to the CCD students. It was a small class and discussion ran deep and quiet as we shared about abortion and real-life consequences. This was the first time I had worked with Thái, the teacher. The donut holes he brought for the students could not compete with his enthusiasm and honesty. It was awesome to meet youth and zeal united for the sake of our Lord! The last time Elizabeth saw Sơ Thủy was in August and this was January. I had just seen Elizabeth over Christmas break while Sơ Thủy was in

Cooking is one of the many skills in the repertoire of a sister’s training, that is a Trinh Vuong sister’s training. With this aim in mind, Sr. Irene, the aspirancy director sent Nhung to the garage one beautiful spring afternoon. Who is Nhung? She is an aspirant, which means she is a young woman who is in her first 12-24 months of entrance into the convent. Her mission? Stir-fry cauliflower for dinner. Why the garage? As all Vietnamese knows, good cooking requires fish sauce. And all great Vietnamese-American chefs do not cook in the main part of the house for fear of the fish sauce. One hour later with evening prayer approaching, Sr. Irene began to wonder why Nhung has not re-appeared. She headed for the garage and found Nhung diligently stirring and peering into the pan. “Sister, I just don’t understand why this cauliflower still looks like this!” Nhung exclaimed in exasperation. Sr. Irene took one look at the cauliflower and pinched herself hard to keep from laughing out lou

We met each other through Thieu Nhi, our church’s youth group. The weekend before, Vu and his friend decided to go canoeing on the American River. The warm California sun shone on them and Binh wanted to cool off. He jumped into the water and almost instantaneously a whirlpool formed near him. The American River was famous for its unpredictable current flow, making it a popular spot for rafters, kayakers and water enthusiasts of all kind. It was also known for taking lives. Binh chuckled mischievously and swam towards the churning whirlpool. Vu turned his back to steady the canoe as it rocked in the moving waters. He heard a sharp cry. A hand clutched the empty air and sunk into the swirls. Against all advice given by the canoe rental owners, Vu jumped into the river to save his friend. Well, this is the story told by Thanh and Duc who was in the other canoe. No one knew exactly what happened as Vu and Binh’s bodies were never found. The funeral was set for Saturday. I knew

Mmmmm.... the smell of freshly brewed coffee... Perhaps it was watching my dad slowly sip a hot steaming mug every morning that got me interested in coffee. Or it may be the chance to allow thoughts to slow down and memories to surface that I enjoy the feel of a hot cup in my hands. I know I am not alone in experiencing this beverage's subtle invitation to savor life, solitude, and companionship. Coffee is served in malls, hospitals, airports, resorts, Vietnam's mountain villages, and on the International Space Station. This morning was different. Sơ Hưyền, Trúc, and myself had to be in downtown Dallas by 7:30am. The drive was not far from our convent but we did not want to miss the connecting bus that would take us to the Routh Street Abortion Center at Fitzhugh. We were on a mission. There was precious little time for coffee. We were three of 4,000 persons who showed up for Rosary, Mass, and a march . We saw senior citizens bundled up in four layers of clothing, leani

soi lối cho con lúc vượt biển thế gian... I remember singing this hymn when I was a little girl. My family used to gather around a beautiful statue of Mary, pray the Rosary, and end with these haunting words. As an adult, I finally connected the meaning of the lyrics with the plight of so many Vietnamese refugees who fled their homeland on little boats. Floating in the vast Pacific Ocean, they looked towards the night sky with its starry firmament and used the constellations as a compass. They knew hunger, storms, and pirates could claim their lives. The morning star promised that the endless night will give way to a new day, new hope, and new life. Appearing right before dawn, it was the brightest object in the sky next to the sun and the moon. My parents told me this, as I was only a child and my brothers were not much older. My parents left Vietnam so that my brothers and sister could have a better life. And like so many other Vietnamese families, we have found material pr

I looked out the window this morning and a gorgeous winter sunrise greeted me. The bare tree branches were still enveloped in darkness, tips of the horizon were a burnt orange, and the moon was a silver crescent, hanging delicately still. I was never much of a sunrise "gazer". I prefer the deep lavendars of a sunset and the hush of the earth as another day ends. However, a friend changed my mind and the sunrise is beautiful in its promise of a new day, new beginnings, and new hope. The impetus to share a bit of my soul has long been on my mind. Yet, surfing through thousands of blogs and walking through aisles of books effectively extinguished this thought. However, God has a great sense of humor (that is why having Him as the center of my life is so awesome!) and so I commence this journey with Him, with you, and with myself. A title is important. Why "Morning Star?" Let this poem speak for me. She was a young woman. A good man loved her. A baby almost de