In Your Hands
Packing up my things for yet another move, I came across an old diary from my childhood. It had two entries: in the first, January 1, 1985, I resolved to write daily, a fresh start to a new year full…
One in the Crowd
We were talking about faith as we drove to the Frassati hike. I remember looking up at the steel grey sky, in which a thick blanket of clouds blocked the sun from shining and warming the April air. I remember…
Sitting in Pairs
Gathered in the theater of the Sheen Center, we watched as survivors of the Rwanda genocide told their stories of living through unspeakable atrocities. How they hid from former friends and neighbors, who hunted them down in order to exterminate…
White Pebbles
When we children were not behaving, and my father was beginning to lose his patience but not yet his sense of humor, he would glance at the woods behind our house and say, “It’s time to start gathering white pebbles!”…
Hiding in Paradise
A two-year-old niece makes many things more fun, but Hide-And-Go-Seek is not one of them. Zippy thinks that if she closes her eyes and can’t see me, then I can’t see her either. Sometimes, to make it more challenging, she…
Guarding Paradise
Among the more fascinating family lore is the story of my great-grandparents, who both came from San Margherita, Sicily, growing up in towns just three miles apart. Unfortunately, these were “enemy towns” and so despite their proximity they did not…
