Association Of Catholic Bloggers

Reading a blog post last night, I immediately thought of Bunny. When this oldest grandchild of mine was three, she sometimes had trouble with tantrums. Anger would overtake her and cause all of the manifestations we can associate with that age: crying, kicking, screaming, flailing, stomping, hurling herself backwards onto the floor. One day when something didn't suit Bunny, we endured a painful stretch of minutes filled with 'all of the above.'  Finally, (after exhausting what I thought of as my options) I leaned in close and said, softly, 'Sweetie, you don't have to do this.' (click here for what happened next...) Painting:  Hermann Kaulbach Die Schuchterne

As a public school teacher in the United States, I am accustomed to lock-down drills. In fact, as it happened, we had one Friday. We have one once a month, as the state of New Jersey requires. We have "non fire evacuations" and "lockdowns" and "active shooter" drills. The teens in my care know what to do; we turn off the lights, we lower the shades, we huddle in a corner and we stay quiet and we wait until the all clear. I can see from the news coverage that those kindergartners and their teachers were trained too, on how to deal with a shooter in the building.... Read more here...

The murder of 26 innocents in a Newtown, Connecticut elementary school and the suicide of the shooting suspect are evils I am unable to absorb. I struggle to even pray about this. Words feel inadequate. Instead, yesterday and today, I have tried to make my actions my prayers, focusing on the children put in front of me: my own children, their friends, and the dozens of students I teach. Is this self-absorption?  Keep Reading...

Yesterday while driving out of the Home Depot parking lot,  I began to tear up. Our 16 year old son's words kept me going. See, I had checked my facebook before heading into the store. I discovered two CL friends are homeless. The boiler in their apartment building in Manhattan's financial district blew up as Hurricane Sandy plowed through. They are scrambling for a warm place to sleep. (They have temporary lodging in New Jersey). Then, as we walked into the store, I was puzzled by rows of people sitting in cloth folding chairs by the customer service counter. Some were reading books; one woman was asleep. Why were they sitting there? And then it struck me: they have no heat in their homes thanks to Hurricane Sandy. Keep Reading....

This morning, I am sitting in the family room, reading a memoir and nursing a sore throat with cough drops. Boy turning 13 tomorrow comes  bounding down the stairs in bare feet, wearing jeans, a white tee and black suspenders. He is dribbling a soccer ball.  Keep Reading...

You know what I love about the internet? You can discover all kinds of information with your fingertips AND you can buy all kinds of obscure stuff from all over the world. Quirky things that can actually help build a child's faith and prayer life. Alec, a family friends' middle child, celebrated his First Communion today. That's him at his home next to his dad after the Mass after he changed into a plaid shirt and striped shorts. His patron saint is Alexander of Comana, the charcoal burner. Seriously? I had never heard of the guy. Read more here...

How do we hand down faith? Do members of our families get together for dinner, quickly eat their food, and scamper off to watch something on television or hop on the computer, never to be seen again until bedtime? Or do we sit down to eat, and have leisurely conversations about important subjects and share what we did today? Maybe even sitting and talking long after the plates are empty. Around our house, nights like this are relished, but not always our reality. Today, the Holy Father, had a message for  parents and godparents of 16 babies he baptized, and that message was the importance of education. "To educate is a very challenging mission, said the Pope, and it is sometimes difficult for our limited human capacities." "But he added, “education becomes a wonderful mission if it is done in partnership with God, who is the first true educator of every man." "With prayer and the Sacraments, said Pope Benedict, parents will be able to discern the most

 Through our baptism, we're called to be royal, priestly parents to our children, exercising our God-given authority with kindness and benevolence. When we truly understand the essence of our authority, we can be leaders and nurturers of our children and help them to become the nurturers and leaders of the future .~ from Strengthening Your Family by Marge Fenelon, p.176  I did a lot of babysitting when I was young and became quite proficient at handling other people's children. I wondered at some parents' inability to control their children in church and other public places, since I rarely had any problem getting my little charges to listen to me. There was no doubt in my mind that I would someday be a  model parent with model children, all sitting quietly in the pew with rapt attention. However, when I finally married, God in His wisdom saw fit to send me the most rambunctious little girl ever created, the kind of child who loves to perform in publi

 I found this beautiful song, which I don't remember hearing before, on the website of the Columbans in Ireland . It was written by Alfred Burt. The male singer is Tennessee Ernie Ford (1919-1991). I'm not sure who the female singer is nor do I know who put the video together. The recording goes back to the 1950s.

I wasn't familiar with the movement called Rachel's Challenge until recently, when the public high school where I work sponsored a speaker from the nonprofit organization. The father of Rachel Scott, the first victim of the Columbine High School shootings on April 20, 1999, started the group to promote his late daughter's two-page Code of Ethics, which she wrote a month before her murder. The code challenges people to be kind. Priest friends and psychologists have told me that the death of one's child is a loss that is impossible to "get over." It is hard to consider how Rachel Scott's father feels, knowing his 17-year-old daughter was gunned down for no reason except she was sitting outside eating lunch in the sunshine with friends. Read more here...

This is a post-script to my post about our son's 12th birthday. I'm writing this upstairs in  our bedroom. Downstairs are five 12-year-old boys, watching "Dawn of the Dead" and eating an inordinate amount of candy they bought at the local convenience store and at the Rite Aid downtown. What just happened moves me deeply. One of their friends, who has been my son's friend since preschool, just left. C. became deeply troubled by the movie. He called his parents on his cell and told them he wanted to go home. They were on a date and told him they would come home soon. Then C. headed up the stairs and knocked on my bedroom door. "There is no way I can sleep here tonight," he told me. "I am terrified."  His parents said to head home and they would be back in a few minutes. Read more...

It's going to be just me and the my husband for real after this week is over. My youngest is packing up as I write. He's got music blaring from his room and boxes everywhere, just like at my mom's house. We've sifted through all manor of memories as he's emptied the closet's and drawers for the first time in years. From old stuffed animals he couldn't part with when he was three to the keys to his first car...we've had some good laughs. But today's weather is a real reflection on my heart. We're in the rainy season here in Florida and it's the time of year when a storm can make it look and sound like the end of the world. It's morning, but dark enough to be evening. The sun is somewhere behind the clouds, but the brightest light comes unexpectedly with a flash of lightening. If your lucky the power stays on through it all as the rain falls like sheets from the heavens. My husband says I should be happy. The children's enthusiasm to