Morning Star

I stopped, gasping for breath. I had just finished my story, with tears. My friend looked at me silently. I felt a cool caress on my face. For the umpteenth time. For the umpteenth time I told my story of betrayal. For the umpteenth time I was given complete attentiveness. And a cool caress. I will never understand this hurt. But I have to come to understand my friend's heart. It is a treasure. Photo credit www.fanpop.com

"Do you want to know the secret of marriage?" Dad looked at us with a mischievous wink. We had just ended their anniversary party with a 30minute slide show of our family. Dad had let us run the day's event. This was not his usual way of doing things. "Your program for us has ended. Right?" He looked at me and I nodded. "So, do you want to know?" he asked. "Only if it is the five minute version," Rose answered. We burst into laughter. Dad was famous for his lectures. Well, which Vietnamese dad isn't famous for their long-winded sermons on how to be good sons/daughters, how to be happy, how to be successful, etc. "Okay, okay. Five minutes. Ryan, you time me." Dad pointed at his oldest grandson. We smiled at Dad's good sense of humor. "Chịu đựng. That means, you put up with each other. I think in the beginning Mom put up a lot with me. Now, I put up a lot with her." We laughed again because we all were ble

"As my mother would say: God's a big boy now, he can do things on his own." Fr. Loni, OMI looked at us with relish. Almost none of us could resist holding in our chuckles. The King's House conference room was spacious, with a wooden carved fireplace mantle. Over 50 sisters from different religious communities were gathered to dwell upon the spiritual journey as "Pilgrimage, Passion, and Paradise." "My sisters, we are all on pilgrimage. This earth is not our homeland. And yes, to arrive at the end, we have to realize that God's a big boy. He can take care of us." Pilgrim is from the Latin peregrinus , a "foreigner." Just as Abraham considered himself a foreigner and alien to this earth when he did not see God's promises come true in his lifetime (Hebrews 11:12 -13). God had promised him that his descendants would be numerous as the sand on the shore and the stars in the sky. And when he was 100 years old, he had one son. And

"Sisters, I am telling you... whatever image you use to describe the Holy Trinity, it is wrong." Fr. Hy Nguyen stated matter-of-factly. "The shamrock, the triangle, the what-ever." We looked at him in disbelief. We were in our annual conferences and had asked Fr. Hy to return because he was a clear and succinct speaker. "Whatever you teach your students, it is wrong," he repeated. "Well, Father, St. Augustine taught that God the Father is the Lover, Jesus is the Beloved, and the bond of Love between them is the Holy Spirit," Sr. Eileen contributed. "Yes, another image. Poetic. Beautiful. And yet, still an image. It is not the reality," Fr. Hy emphasized. "We have always learned that the three Persons of the Holy Trinity is equal, but different. How is this so? We cannot explain. It is the mystery of the Holy Trinity. Yet, we can say that it is the humanity of the Second Person that makes him differently than the other two

"Ocean, how does Mygnoua feel about y'll putting so much money and time into mom and dad's anniversary?" "She says I can do whatever I think is right," he paused slightly. "She says her parents never made it that far and we should be celebrating." "Ocean, you have a good wife. I hope you're thankful!" "Yeah, yeah," my brother replied bashfully. I knew Ocean only became sheepish when he received a genuine compliment if he had done something wrong. I hope Emma would take after her mom's generosity. Mygnoua's parents never made it to their 25th anniversary. Instead of becoming bitter, she always encouraged Ocean to spend more time with his parents and they always brought their three feisty kids to visit every holiday. Perhaps it was not by chance that Emma (in the pix) is wearing a crown of dandelions. Some would look down upon this lowly weed. Like they would look down upon fidelity and commitment. "The dandeli

"Here Livy, have half!" Angelica tore the dead sardine in half and gave it to her sister. Fish guts hung to her fingers. The older gentleman nearby winced. Bill, Angelica's dad chuckled. The family was at Sea World in San Antonio. It was time to feed the dolphins and sardines were $6 for four. Steep prices for a bit of fun. Bill did it anyway. Angelica had just lost her mom. Bill and Lisa adopted both Angelica and Livy when their birth mom left one morning. Then Lisa contracted cancer. Bill frequently stopped by our convent to mow the yard because "he wanted to give back to the Lord a little bit." Now Angelica and Livy had lost another mom. $150 Sea World tickets were not too much. $6 sardines were not too much. Angelica and Livy may have lost two moms but God sent a father with four golden hearts. Photo credit: http://blog.isango.com/2009/07/13/seaworld-orlando/

"Vân, you can't snap a candid picture of us!" "Why not? Y'll working hard," I replied rascally. We had just finished cleaning up the banquet hall when these set of sisters dived into the evening meal's preparation. The reception for the Profession Mass had gone well and they were preparing the rau muống, or water spinach. "Here, take it again. Now we're going to smile... because we are enjoying our work!!!" Sr. Mary said sportfully. Although these five sisters wore black and a different cross than ours, they were from our religious community's motherhouse in Vietnam. It was the first time so many of them could attend our celebration. "Well, one must be grateful that one can prepare this vegetable without permission," I commented impishly after the photo. "What do you mean?" Sr. Mary asked in amazement. Although they have been in the United States for over a year, many of the nation's laws still baffle them

"What is profession of vows?" Sr. Cecilia Hiền's little guest asked wonderingly. Dainty pink ruffles filled out 6-year-old Xuân's dress. About a hundred family and friends of Sr. Faustina Ánh Tuyết and Sr. Cecilia Hiền gather at St. Agnes Cathedral in Springfield, Missouri for their profession of vows. "This is a profession, although many out there would consider it to be a job!" Although it has been over 8 years since I received my teaching degree, I can still hear Dr. Loncar's insistence. "Who are the people daring to say it takes little skill and knowledge to manage 20-plus bodies, eight hours a day? Let them do the job !" she said steadily. A profession is a line of work requiring academic or practical preparation. A job is work. "Profession is to tell the whole world what you think," I replied carefully, hoping the answer wouldn't be too abstract. "You mean, Sr. Cecilia wants to tell me that she is happy being a sis

"Janine, your order came in!" Sr. Gwen called from the bottom of the stairs. I had just gotten back from my family visit. "What order?" A week of conferences in Springfield, two weeks with family, a week on the grounds of Kings House Retreat Center, and several flights were topmost in my memory. "Someone had rang the doorbell and I found this at our door," Sr. Gwen explained. I looked at the brochures in disbelief. It was my first time doing business with this copy center and I was glad it was not too far from our convent. Although it was a little after noon in June, the heat was barely tolerable. "Everything looks good... however, the bottom part of this column doesn't look quite right." "Oh, how should it look?" "Well, it is suppose to be a gradual increase of the shade of orange. This looks algae green to me. Is that what you see?" "You are right," John Gwartney replied. "That is a block of green. It