Morning Star

I had class today and there were presentations. It was Julia's turn. Her clothes are seldom drab and today, she could've made the apple blossoms in the courtyard envious. A friend once asked me, "Why don't you wear something besides that gray? Won't young women be more attracted to the religious life if they could express themselves more?" As Julia spoke, the answer came. Pink shirt, black skirt flowered flats Auburn curls, rosy cheeks Colors are dancing. It is spring. Would I trade it in? This gray habit with its sameness of everyday The rains come the sun shine the grayness greets them all. Does it mourn because it cannot complement the moods of nature the turn of the heart or the fancies of a woman? What can exhaust the colors of nature's palette the nuances of the soul the complexity of the feminine? Black is the absence of color White is the union of colors Gray is white and black. The breeze is unfu

"This is me...being a bridge." (A ripple of laughter) "I mean, me designing a bridge...I want to become an architect... and like, being a bridge for other people." (His peers quickly settled into respectful silence.) "And this is a crocodile eating Tony up in the river and I am going to save him," Minh continued. (The group chuckled good-naturedly. Tony was Minh's friend.) "Thank you Minh. Anyone else?" I asked. We had just done a drawing meditation while listening to instrumental music. I had given them this question to ponder: What are the dreams you have? What are the dreams God placed within you? Hearts, hands, crosses, and people gradually emerged from their canvasses. Minh had wanted to share. I did not spot any dollar signs, trophies, or blank sheets. I was not surprised. Deep down, who would be attracted to money, power, or emptiness? Have you seen that restaurant TGIF, Thank God It's Friday? I wondered why they didn&#