Morning Star

"When you write From , write Jesus. These presents are from Jesus, through you." Our youth listened attentively as Sr. Angelica finished giving directions on how we were to wrap almost 200 coats for the kids from around the neighborhood. These brand-new coats were donated to the sisters and our job was to sort, wrap, and gift tag them. "Sơ Vân, I don't know if this is a small girls or medium girls... I don't have any kids!" one of the adult chaperones remarked. I laughed silently. Neither do I. 30 minutes later, our crew of twenty was spread into three rooms, noisily chatting, and playfully giving commands. The youth had arrived silent and askance. For many of them, it was their first service project away from the church. For others, it was the broken cars and grayed laundry that lined the streets that led up to the Missionary of Charity convent on Harwood Avenue. "I've never wrapped presents before!" Rachel exclaimed as she fought with the

"Which one of you is Sister Janine?" One of the ushers looked intently at our pew. I raised my hand slightly. "Father said to meet him right after Mass." "Here you go Sister!" Fr. Clair handed me a huge hot pink gift bag. I gasped at the weight. Chocolate upon chocolate stared back at me. "Now, Sister you must remember to put them into individual bags and place them at the head of each of the sister's bed." I smiled at the gleeful satisfaction written all over his face. The evening before, Father had asked us to share our Christmas memories. Among the many stories, Sr. Jacinta Ngân had remembered that after midnight mass in the convent, each person would find a small bag of sweets at their pillow. The sound of rustling would fill the air and each would "savor how good the Lord is" (Psalm 34:9). In this country of abundance, sweets are commonplace. Savoring is sometimes forgotten. "Remember Sister, at the head of the bed. So

"As you know, my brother, who is a priest, was a missionary in Bolivia for 12 years." Bishop John's eyes twinkled more brightly than the logs in his fireplace. The sisters and I were enjoying dinner with him at his home. "He enjoyed every moment of his time with the Aymara Indians... but there was a moment when he thought he was coming back here to the States. He had spent one whole year studying Spanish and where did they send him? To Bolivia highlands, where no one spoke a shred of Spanish. After 3 weeks, he went to chapel, knelt down and prayed. You know my brother is a very direct man..." "Dear God, what am I suppose to do? What the hell do you want me to do? ....and he heard an answer: Go learn Aymara." Bishop John waited for our laughter to subside and continued. "Well, he went back to the university and ended up writing a catechism for them in their language. You know, he says one of the most amazing things he saw was how the women

"Let's make a souvenir!" I told Theresa. She was somewhat disappointed that I had forgotten the digital camera and the gift shop had run out of disposable cameras. She looked at the penny press machine slowly. "What is it?" "Oh... you've never seen one? Let me find some change. We need some quarters and a shiny penny. Go ahead and pick the image you want." The Precious Moments Visitor Center was unusually quiet and empty for a Sunday evening. Theresa and I was on our way up to Springfield, MO for our daycare's Christmas program and caroling to our two beloved Bishops. Carthage (where Precious Moments Park is located) was not too far away. "Sorry, Theresa. This is the shiniest penny the cashier inside had." Crank, crank, crank. Theresa giggled at the penny's transformation. A still figure slid next to us. He placed two quarters and a very shiny penny on the machine. We tried to return the money and tell him we were not in nee

I woke up this morning and realized my favorite color is not only lavender. Thoughts of fuzzy yellow goslings that my brother hatched in secret from my parents, sunlight which makes golden bangles envious, and your honey-rich voice that day on the phone makes me skip and laugh. I laugh because I misplaced my planner I laugh because I worried silly over a co-worker's careless remark I laugh because "laugh at the devil and he will flee from you." Kings adore gold maidens are entrapped by gold youth spend themselves over gold. Cold gold indifferent and merciless is not my House of Gold dwelling place of the King of Kings. Hers is the smile that won the heart of God ps1. Quote on the devil is a paraphrase of Saint James and St. Anthony the Great's wisdom. ps2. Mary, House of Gold http://campus.udayton.edu/mary/prayers/domusaurea.html ps3. Photo credit: http://www.cacklehatchery.com/chinesegoosepage.html

"Mmmm.... some ice cream would be so good now!" I murmured. Through the window, the trees appeared unearthly. "It's freezing... how can you want ice cream?" Sr. Terry Thủy replied. A cloak of grayness seem to hang on the trees' bare branches as our van continued northward on the highway to Springfield, Missouri last weekend. "Those trees look funny," Ni Hà commented. A shaft of light broke through the clouds and a wonderland of ice twinkled instantaneously. We were on our annual trip to our community's regional headquarters and hoped to see snow. A dazzling display of "crystals" lined our horizon. "Do you know why ice cream is essential for you?" I continued. My four companions smiled. "Are you saying we should make a rest stop and get ice cream?" Sr. Terry Thủy teased. "No... but I won't be against it! Did you know that air is an essential ingredient of making ice cream. Without air, ice cream would be

They sell stain remover down at the store for grass stains, grease spots, and all sorts of spills. Leave me my stains on my collar kiss my tears so I will not turn my back on my Creator. Photo credit: http://malteseboi.blogspot.com/

"Joe, how long does it take before you get use to sleeping with someone?" Jennifer and I busted into uncontrollable laughter. David's eyes had lost some of its puffiness but he did not look like he was completely in newly-wed bliss. "Well, I will take this question innocently. He could be asking how I bunk with my brother," Joe slowly replied. He had just celebrated his three-year wedding anniversary and had two kids of his own. "Oh Joe! He asked you . He didn't ask me how I bunked with my sister!" I retorted playfully to Joe. "I'm one of seven married siblings. Sometimes it's a few weeks, a year, and sometimes never before you get use to having a body next to you in bed." At that point, Dr. Malloy, our substitute, walked in and class started. I wondered what Dr. Lowery's comment would have been. He had dubbed sexual intercourse "climbing a majestic mountain" in his moral theology handbook. Sometimes it is not