Morning Star

"Why don't you go out and walk a little bit? The nurses don't let you do that?" He looked at me quietly. "Have you always lived in the Dallas area?" He stretched his muscular arms and nodded gently. "Well, Bryan, if you're still here next week, I'll come back to see you. I don't want to see you here since you want to go home, but I don't know if you're going home," I continued pleasantly. "What is your name?" he asked. It was the only question he asked in our conversation. "Janine." "Janine," he repeated with a soft smile. "Yes, Janine." One of the nurses had told me Bryan had complained no body cared about him. So, I stopped by his hospital room to visit. He had been there for five months. He said he hasn't been to church in a while. He didn't complain about his illness so I wasn't quite sure why his stay was lengthy. "Paraplegic" I gasped unconsciously. I had ar

"Tell Sister why you didn't come to school." The mom pushed the seven-year-old boy forward. Sr. Jacinta Ngân actually did not know what the mom was saying since it was spoken in Spanish. Sr. Jacinta did know that the boy had missed the first day of Sunday school. The Spanish translator was late. "Something was in my nose," he slowly stated. "Something was in your nose?" Sr. Jacinta asked in wonder. Sr. Jacinta helps direct a Sunday School with a population of 1700+ students. She had heard all kinds of excuses. This was a new one for her. "Yes, it was running and running," he demonstrated with his quick fingers. "Oh, you were sick!" Sr. Jacinta replied. The little boy grinned and nodded vigorously. He wasn't the only one smiling. Photo credit: http://www.pollsb.com

"The bride and groom my be lassoed." I wasn't quite sure if I heard Fr. Frank correctly. I was in line Saturday afternoon for a confession and there was a wedding in the main sanctuary. Lassoed? I couldn't concentrate on my examination of conscience and peered through the church's columns. The couple was definitely tied together by a long string of beads. I found out later it was a rosary, a symbol of the union and protection of their marriage. It is not just a tradition of Catholic Hispanics, but of all Hispanics. Sometimes a cord is used and they are both entwined as a figure 8 loop around the couple's shoulders, "symbolic of their love...as they equally share the responsibility of marriage for the rest of their lives." More often than not, a rosary is used. To call upon the greeting that signaled a pregnancy. An unexpected pregnancy. And perhaps the end of a happy engagement. "Hail Mary... fruit of thy womb, Jesus." Would Jesus unite th

"Anh ơi, em nè." Everyone broke into laughter as Sr. Marie Trang "pleaded" to be recognized. The close group of friends were at Quý Lành's 25th wedding anniversary celebration. The couple were also long-time catechists at Holy Martyrs Church and so our sisters were also invited to be part of the festivities. One of the guests suggested a game. Quý, the husband, would be blindfolded. All the females present would take turns holding Quý's hand. Quý would have to recognize his wife's hands. Quý, a practical jokester himself, quickly got the game started. "Anh ơi, em nè." "Honey, it's me," Sr. Marie Trang repeated in Vietnamese. Yet Sr. Marie's close impersonation of Lành's voice could not persuade Quý. The room vibrated with laughter as Quý turned down Sr. Marie and she left the line with a look of pretended sadness. The two had barely clasped hands when they embraced without a word. Everyone was amazed. And impressed. Th

It has been a year over his death when I finally had a chance to visit his grave.  A small burnt piece of paper caught my eyes. Alleluia . Hebrew for "Praise the Lord!" Or its Christian meaning:  hope, new life, resurrection. Father Thaddeus Ban has always been a cordial priest. He was the always the first to give me a call when I came home to see my family. He was our parish priest and pastor. Our church was in the midst of tumultous transitions as several priest moved in-and-out in one year. "Father, how long will you stay?" I asked simply that summer eleven years ago. "Maybe a year," he replied. "And you're planning to build a new church?" I gasped. "It will be where the people are. I'll use any days the good Lord gives me." He was never transferred that year. Or the next. People couldn't persuade, frighten, or flatter him away from his vision. It was about a week before our new church would be conse

"Sister, may I have this one for my mom?" "Of course, honey." A few minutes later. "Sister, may I have this one for my aunt, my uncle, and my two cousins?" Stella's four-year-old eyes opened with anxious waiting. "Why yes!" I answered with a choked smile. "Sister, I don't need one for my grandma and grandpa. They're away. But I can't give one to my mom and my dad and not have it for everyone else. They'll be sad," Stella explained. The sisters were watching me choke on my giggles. Stella had no idea it took us over an hour to make each paper bracelet. And we needed at least 200 to be prepared for the upcoming conference. Her dad had stopped by to help us install a storm door. We had given her and her sister a bracelet as a memento of their visit. We were unprepared for her reaction. More specifically, her generosity. "Unless you turn and become like little children... you will not en