Summer is coming to a close, and the school year is beginning.

As Pope Leo XIV lifts the host during the Consecration, you can see his eyes filling up. He swallows, and he seems to be holding back tears.

The world was full of magic and wonder, and God—God was everywhere. And he was certainly with us on the beach, welcoming us into a new day, inviting us to see it for the gift it is.

For a moment, as I reached for the church door, I hesitated. I could go back to the car for an umbrella.

We have all hoped and prayed for miracles. No wonder we get excited when we hear that the Vatican has confirmed one.

Relationships are unique. We connect with each person in a distinctive way, meeting them where they are. We don’t talk to Mary the same way we talk to Martha.

The Loyola School started with a seed of an idea from Jesuit Father William Watters, who has brought such vision and commitment to Jesuit education for children in Baltimore over the decades.

Earlier this year, my husband John mentioned that his cousin Terri had something she wanted to give to me. He showed me a photo of a sculpture that included statues of St. Rita of Cascia and St. Therese of Lisieux.

We drove more than 450 miles, spent more than 10 hours on the road, and did almost everything we wanted to along the way.

A few days before the big day, my sister—the birthday girl’s mom—invited us to join them. She happened to mention that her daughter was hoping to have “Aunt Rita’s Dip” that day, too.