My husband says I will never understand what it is like to be the only black person in a room, that I will never understand what it is like when strangers look at him a certain way – he’s absolutely right.

Everyone needs a little project during this stay-at-home time.

If you have some extra summer time on your hands, read the poems and complete your own Poetry Madness bracket.

What Father Sherbrooke has done at St. Patrick’s in London in his 17 years as its pastor is little short of miraculous.

Over the centuries, we humans have survived plagues and famines and natural disasters. I don’t pretend to know why God allows them, but I do know that as a human race we survive them.

When I feel helpless, I try to pick one thing and do it well. The other night I set everything aside to make a pie.

We are done with school, but school isn’t done with us. That’s been true for weeks, but it’s never been as true as it is today.

I am honored to be Faith’s godfather, but the roles have been reversed these past few weeks. She has been the one teaching me how to be a good Christian. 

Father Hull was an immense storehouse of knowledge and sharp as a tack even as he pushed 100.

I have an immense sense of gratitude, especially for our spiritual fathers, who helped keep the flame our faith alive during this time.