It’s Lent, so in this season of penance I have a confession: I don’t like show tunes. Hate is a strong word so I won’t use it to describe how I feel about those songs from Broadway musicals that I … dislike. And with that, God chuckles.
Those words could have been mine, about my own sister. They could have been the words of American children taught and served by kindly religious sisters. They could have been the words of the poorest of the poor in India served by Mother Teresa and her Missionaries of Charity sisters.
If you guessed the latter, you’d be close.
It had been one of those days. It began as I woke up late, then spilled coffee on my tie as I sat in a traffic jam. That led to a missed appointment. My bad day featured some cranky phone callers, unexpected new tasks and a task left uncompleted before I headed into another traffic [...]
For an aunt and a grandpa, the desire for our magazine and the fire of faith burn brightly