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Showing posts from July, 2010

"U"

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"Hello ma'am, I am calling on behalf of Representative Linda Harper Brown," rang a clear voice over the phone. "No thank you," I replied firmly. Although the high peak of the voting season is far away, we have been getting a huge number of solicitations. Many fail to realize we were a convent because we are listed as Mary Queen. When we go out to vote, it is as individual citizens and with individual voting cards. Last fall, when Sr. Jacinta Ngân received her card, we weren't quite sure if she would be allowed to vote. Under gender, she was listed as "U". "U"?!?! "U" for "Unisex"? "Unidentified"? "Unwanted"? It was too late to send in the corrections and we went with her to the precinct anyways. No fuss was made. She sent in the correction later. The card came. She is still a "U". ps. Photo from wikipedia.com

Choice

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"Praises go up and blessings come down," Mack declared. We smiled in appreciation at SoupMobile's assistant warehouse manager. It was our first time at the Dallas mobile soup kitchen and he glowingly invited us to a particular poster at the sign-in counter. Intrigued by his enthusiasm, and 30 minutes until our volunteer shift, we began reading the Dallas Morning News article. 15 years homeless. Rape conviction. "Mayor" of cardboard village. Mack Choice. "Thank you for sharing your story," I told him in the kitchen, as he finished getting the food ready. Twenty minutes later, Soupmobile's staff and about 10 of us volunteers were busy serving 200 meals to homeless people. I wondered how many of them would like to turn their lives around. I wondered how many of them would be given the opportunity. I wondered how many would have the courage. Some are homeless in body. Many more are homeless in spirit. Praises go up and blessings come down. Because we

Secret Ingredient

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Po could care less about making noodle soup. He wanted to be the greatest kung-fu warrior in all of China. Although he is a very chubby panda bear. Luck and destiny lands him the guidance of Master Shifu and the Dragon Scroll. The scroll promises limitless power because it holds a sovereign secret. Upon opening it, Po and his friends discover it is blank. And the enemy, Tai Lung, is upon them. Po returns to his father, a noodle shop owner. Mr. Ping is ecstatic that Po has given up his kung-fu dream and reveals the secret ingredient to his successful noodle soup. "The secret ingredient is...... nothing!" "Nothing!" Po repeated in disbelief. "Nothing," cackled Mr. Ping enthusiastically. "To make something special, you just have to believe it's special." With this realization, Po unravels the mystery of the Dragon Scroll and defeats Tai Lung. "Kung Fu Panda" is reminiscent of another "secret ingredient". "What ever did

Faith

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"Here you go," Sr. Leslie proclaimed jubilantly. A clear parcel of yellow round kernels. "Oh I paid dearly for them.. those vendors knew I was a tourist," she exclaimed. She had just gotten back from her Holy Land pilgrimage. "There they are, the size of our faith! I won't mind paying an eye for it except our chaplain kept laughing at me and told me to buy my mustard seeds in the US." "Thanks Leslie... now I have this visual aid to help me explain faith to the youth... but you know the mustard seed is not the least of the seeds," I commented. She saw the twinkle in my eye and waited for my explanation. "The mustard seed is 1/20th of an inch, the begonia seed is 1/50th of an inch, the petunia seed is 1/100th of an inch, while the orchid seed is so small, you need a 10 to 30 power microscope to see it... and so, the point isn't to prove Jesus wrong, but that faith is present in the small ordinary things of life." "Wow! I wi

Stephen

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7 months and 16 days. The littlest Tran in the Tran clan. This is why he rules. Long ago, Tiffany (the oldest niece) knew that the Tran family had one abiding rule: the littlest one reigns. It matters little the issue. Or the person. Even if it is dad in his most fiery moment. A little whimper would melt his seething logic in mid-sentence. For this, my brothers and sisters would forgive dad in all his fickle temper. It is enough that dad's heart could still be melted by vulnerability. ps. Photo of Stephen as a 5-day newborn. ps2. Tran is a common Vietnamese last name. ps3. "See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven always look upon the face of my heavenly Father." (Mt 18:10)

I See you

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Sr. Mary Catherine glowered at me. We were late to religion class again. It was really not my fault. My brother, Phil, was suppose to be watching the clock since class began at 4pm. Most days, he did a good job. The episode of "Smurfs" bowled us over and we continued to keep the TV on. Until something didn't feel right. The convent was a 10 minute walk from home. It was a three-minute run that day. And 30 minutes on our knees for the rest of class. (Corporal punishment was still practiced in those days.) I wish I could've told the sisters that the Smurfs also taught us how to be good. Smurfs were blue peaceful creatures who wore white trousers. But they had a habit of not being content with enough. They always wanted something else and this was the hilarious plot to the cartoon. In "Avatar", it was the humans who had this shameless habit. While the blue creatures, the Na'Vi, lived in harmony with each other and the world. I see you. This is the Na

Coincidence

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Water. The thought would not leave. 2:15pm. No time to stop by home. Or a gas station. I consoled myself that there was a fountain outside the Eucharistic Chapel. I had just left the hospital and due to a friend's house in 70 minutes. The water fountain was turned off. A leak in the plumbing. I stepped into the airy coolness of the chapel. And knelt in my favorite spot. A hidden alcove next to the bookcase. Jesus' eyes beheld me. I glanced to my left. A brand-new unopened water bottle sat on the shelf. I didn't get a sip of water until three hours later. I didn't drink that water bottle either. My thirst was already soothed. ps. Photo from the Franciscan Chapel in Independence, Missouri.

Passion Roses

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Buying roses is such a headache. At least I am not buying it for a human beloved. It's the Feast of Our Lady of Carmel. Everyone knows Mary nor Jesus need these blooms in the chapel. Its beauty is for our spiritual banquet. It was a good day at Kroger's floral department. After 15 minutes, I had a bouquet of Freedom Red . Attached was a tag with a website link. Congratulations! You've just purchased Passion Roses! Every rose is different. Each with varying bloom shapes, longevity, and scent. The more fragrant a rose, the shorter the vase life. Roses and people are both 85% water. The sisters like best the roses that blooms slowly, opening all the way until the center is exposed. Now I can tell them that roses and people are alike. I can't find the same bouquet that I found a year ago. And it is wonderful that I don't. ps. http://www.passiongrowers.com/web/ot/rose.asp ps2. Just as behind every gray veil, you will find a different life story. ps3. Photo is of Bish

TINFL

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"Do you want a free lunch?" Mr. Exstrom announced grandiosely. We looked at our Economics teacher warily. After two weeks of school, we weren't quite sure if we were in an economics class or a stocks consultant session. Nevertheless, Mr. Exstrom never failed to make us laugh. "I do!" Ralph took the bait and the rest of us waited with excitement. "Is it really free?" "Ummm... you said it is, unless you aren't telling the truth," Ralph quickly returned. "Ah! Free! How will you get there?" "I guess by...car?" The rest of us was as puzzled as Ralph. "And because you get this free lunch... what aren't you having?" "Mmmm... the taco salad I was going to buy in the cafeteria?" Ralph stammered. "TINFL! There is no free lunch! Anyone can say that you are going to get a free lunch. In reality, this doesn't exist! You are giving up time, gas, and other lunch options to be there! This is the

Grace

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As usual, she was very gracious. "Go honey. You understand I can't walk you to the door. Thank you for the visit." She patted my arm lightly. She always came to visit us with two gallons of ice cream. I had five brothers. One gallon would only last us three hours. It use to be 25cents for every strand of silver I could find when 25cents could get you a Snickers. She quit paying me to pluck out her white hairs when I started to make more than $5 three days in a row. I always wondered why she took long walks. I always thought she needed the exercise because she was getting older. I later found out it was her third Rosary of the day. I gently opened the nursing home's doors open. Grandma had been in a wheelchair for over a year now. In the end, she decided to enter because she wanted her children and grandchildren to be free. It was her gracious way of letting us move on with life. Just like it was her gracious way of saying she can't walk me to

Raindrops

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I once lived behind a wall. At the word of the Master I walked into the venues and I forgot the One who beckoned. I sustained injury I wept Few did I let know. I look through the window of the wall my family had given me years ago and a friend re-awakened within me. The rain is so pretty. ps. I have forgotten where I got this photo.

Ocean

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What do you do when 1. you have a camping trip to put together 2. your spouse is fired 3. your 3-year-old son is diagnosed with -17 myopia (-20 is blind) all in the same week? Give a Cricut. (pronounced cricket) "Oh, how fun!" one flight attendant crooned. "I'll hold this for you," another mischievously hinted to me. I opened the box. The personal electronic cutting machine was a scrapbooker's dream. Thousands of shapes and fonts in any imaginable size. I had made Ocean return the Cricut last year. He tried to convince me it would be helpful in my business of baiting youth for Christ. I shook my head. It was too expensive. My brother was a man of few words. And magnanimous gestures. He re-appeared with the Cricut this year. My father had named him for the wide blue waters that brought life to his homeland. Ocean had never seen Vietnam, being born here in the States. Few would doubt the deepness of his heart mirrored the Pacific.

Country

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3/4 cup of sugar 3/4 cup of eggs Blend well. Ice cream cake has to be one of the finickiest pastries to accomplish. And my brother had volunteered to do five batches. "You don't have to do this," I told him. "It's okay, Van... I want you to rest, talk, sit still..." Country replied smoothly, his large hands deftly whisking in the dry flour. Country Return Tran. Country's first name raises eyebrows. His middle name stops people in their tracks. In 1983, after three years in the United States, my dad was ready to return to the country of his forefathers. In 1983, the Vietnamese did not know if this newly adopted country would bear fruit in its promises of equal opportunity for all. In 1983, my brother was born. Born in the Year of the Pig, it was a running family joke that he was the biggest of the boys. He is the slenderest. And the most quiet. Every year, I get to see my family for two weeks. They take turns spoiling me. Trips to the San Francisco Bay A