One of the toughest assignments I ever had was in seventh grade religion class. Sister Generosa gave us our assignment: Do something nice for someone we didn’t know — every day during Lent. And here’s the kicker, we couldn’t tell anyone. When I first heard that I thought, “What kind of lunatic goes around doing nice things for strangers and then never even gets to brag about it?”…
Jesus is in trouble. Ever since my father’s house sold last year, he’s been in limbo. I just found my mother’s treasured 8×10 of him in a corner of my bedroom buried under a pile of partnerless socks. When I moved the sock pile, I discovered my mom’s glow in the dark rosary beads and a St. Anthony plaque laying on top of him. I claimed them all…