Every year, during our back-to-school liturgies, I scan the pews and say a prayer of gratitude and a petition for a successful school year for each of my colleagues. This year my task was more difficult because as I scanned the congregation, I was forced to recognize that one of us wasn’t there and never would be again.

For their birthdays and Gotcha Days, our boys always get to pick something special for dinner. So as we were counting down to our younger son’s Gotcha Day—the seventh anniversary of the day we met one another—I asked him how he wanted to celebrate.

For our younger son’s Gotcha Day, we took him to a hibachi grill. He was excited to go, but then when we got there, all he wanted was a plate of fried rice.

Father Doyle fields questions about why the priest washes his hands at Mass and what Christ meant by the ‘poor in spirit.’

The reality is that the cross we as Catholics have chosen and have been chosen to bear is heavy and growing heavier.

I find him to be such a tender and calm soul. He speaks gently. He celebrates Mass gently. He acts gently. I love chatting with Father Bernie – his tranquility is contagious.

In these current times of confusion, doubt, sadness or anger, instead of letting our passions rule us we should come to Jesus in his flesh and blood, in his Eucharist.

Back in December 2009, I was standing in the lobby of the U.S. Consolate in Guangzhou, China, with friends who had just become parents through the miracle of adoption.

What could be more fun than eating sushi on the water in Fell’s Point on a summer evening? We were about to find out.

My husband and sons made it home as the rain was starting, but there were no fish for dinner.