Sunday, September 27, 2009

Sunday at Ten-Thirty

This morning the Rite of Acceptance and Welcoming was celebrated at St. Matthew’s Cathedral during the eleven-thirty Mass.

It was a time of anxiety, faith, hope, and love. It was a time of activity.

The catechumens and candidates accompanied by their sponsors were greeted by Monsignor Jameson near the main doors of the Cathedral.

As a sponsor all types of thoughts flooded my mind. Several silent prayers shot through my mind.

Standing there, this morning I remembered how the Church asks us to be involved, to be open to all types of requests.

Being Catholic means more than just going to Mass once a week. It means offering your time to help the Church. It means volunteering.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Wednesday at Seven O'Clock

Once upon a time, in a city far, far away a young man walked on the sidewalks avoiding pedestrians, bicycles, people with paper cups asking for money, people with plastic clipboards asking for signatures and donations. His mind drifted to the Eucharist, to the wine and the hosts. Other things flashed in his mind momentarily. Goodness, however, dominated this journey.

It was an animated, quick walk. Was he chasing someone or being chased by someone? Such silly thoughts went through his mind. One moment he was imaging a full orchestral fanfare and the next a delicate operatic aria.

He had decided to sponsor someone in the RCIA.

This was a moment of faith mingled with eternal hope and fleeting anxiety. He knew that he had made the right decision. His faith had exerted itself, wrestled control from inactivity and made him send an innocent email volunteering to help. Once he learned that there was a need, he could not refuse.

And so he walked into the windowless conference room confidently. There were familiar faces sitting on the chairs arranged in the shape of an oval. He patiently waited for the meeting to begin.

After attendance was taken, there was a brief overview of the RCIA program and the upcoming ritual. He listened eagerly. He remembered his time as a catechumen, remembered his sponsor.

He remembered a long ago snowy, January night, waiting with other catechumens and candidates on the steps of the Cathedral for the center doors to be opened, to be welcomed into the Church. It was a beautiful, enchanted, romantic moment of prayers and faith. He remembered being surprised during the ritual but he also remembered being at peace and sensing all types of goodness. It was a woodwind and strings time for him. His senses were beginning to perceive and acceptance the presence of unconditional goodness, unconditional love around him. He was encountering God as an adult. It was a time, gentle and compassionate. He could not hide and that was good.

These memories and others rumbled through his mind that night as the group of sponsors briefly rehearsed in the Cathedral that night as the organist practiced.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Mass at Eight Thirty

Going to Mass sometimes requires as much planning and strategy as the Normandy Invasion (D-Day)D-Day. Beyond the simple getting up, shaving, showering there is often a little contemplation, a little anxiety, a little looking at the clock and forcing myself out. I know precisely how long it might take to walk to the Cathedral depending upon several variables of weather, traffic, shoe and foot compatibility and comfort, and deliberate daydreams.

I miscalculated today. It was my intent to attend the 8:30 AM Mass. The main reason that I chose this Mass was to see a dear friend. However, there was some minor problems and I arrived just after the Mass had begun.

This was the first time that I had attended that Mass at St. Matthew’s Cathedral. It was a new experience. It was a grand experiment. I was a guinea pig who needed a wrist watch.

The Mass proceeded in the normal way and I realized that there was nothing different about this Mass other than my presence.

And I really didn’t feel different. I was happy to be at Mass, happy to have the entire day ahead of me.

After Mass I saw my friend and had a wonderful conversation about vocations. I also volunteered with Hospitality Sunday which was the other reason for my attending the 8:30 Mass. I had mentally decided to help after the 8:30 and 10:00 AM Masses.

In my mind I would only talk to two people. The rest of the time I would be invisible, unnoticed as I carried trays of donuts or pitchers of orange juice. I had not planned on having a camera around my neck but somehow when I walked out of my apartment that morning my black camera bag followed me. I had not planned on talking to anyone other than the Hospitality coordinator. Somehow I was talking with another friend who I had met when I was a catechumen in the RCIA. She mentioned something about an email requesting sponsors. I thought about it briefly, but decided against it.

Somehow I was taking pictures, then carrying a tray of glazed donuts, then pouring more orange juice into the pitcher.

I was happy to be in the Cathedral, happy to have heard the Word that morning, and happy to have seen all those faces.

As I walked home I briefly thought about the homily and wondered if I would be a good sponsor. I encouraged myself to say little prayers for the different people that I passed.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Random Thoughts

And I tried to think of my life in simple, uncomplicated terms. I tried to think of both the good and bad in my life. I tried to think of my sins. The sins planned but never completed, the sins completed but not planned, the sins planned, completed, and regretted. Somehow, I confused myself as I thought about my sins.

Hopefully, I will develop the strength to avoid sin in the future.

Living a good Christian life presents brave new opportunities to me as I make decisions and look for things to do. There will be contentment. There will be suffering.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Random Thinking

I was trying to decide what to do after dinner. I have several books which I should read. I decided to call a good friend. Luckily, there was no answer and I allowed myself to think about the recession, fresh blueberries and strawberries.

I have enjoyed eating apples, peaches, blueberries, strawberries, and pears. Fresh fruit always puts me in a good mood. I sometimes think of my childhood as I chew a strawberry or an apple.

Tuesday evenings are often good for reading or thinking.

I like Calvin and Hobbes.

Living in the city presents many opportunities to be compassionate; I wish that I did more to help those in need.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Something Different

And even though I am not a true tennis fan, I am a part time one during the over hyped media convergence of the big tournaments.

Kim Clijsters of Belgium won the U.S. Open women’s title over Caroline Wozniacki of Denmark, 7-5, 6-3.

Juan Martín del Potro surprised Rafael Nadal in straight sets and will face Roger Federer.

Serena Williams was fined $10,000 on Sunday for her outburst at the line judge.

Prayer requires discipline, practice, patience, observation. Being a good Catholic is a lifelong journey of faith, hope, prayers and confession.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Musings

And I wondered what would happen if I did some simple substitutions:

To pray or not to pray, that is the question?

Thou must lower your eyes; we came praying hither

Into the vale of prayers with hope and faith as my companions

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Fortitude

When I remember my childhood, there is an assortment of birthdays, family dinners, summertime twilight bicycle rides or firefly hunting expeditions, and reminders to pray before bed, loving, long prayers before Sunday breakfasts. Oh, how lyrical the prayers seem now. How rigorous and imposing they were then. At some point prayer became my trusted friend.

The beauty of prayer rests within the simplicity. There is a gentle mingling of life and death in all of my prayers. My prayers are often said for both the living and the dead. There is something extraordinary about honest, automatic prayer. Sometimes prayers are offered without thought, just as a response to something seen or heard or felt. Prayer offers a connection with God. Prayer allows us to be vulnerable, to believe in the impossible.

Catholics have all types of prayers and occasions to pray. Preparing for confession is an excellent time for prayer as we examine our choices and their consequences. Being good is not easy. Being Catholic is not easy. Prayer offers us solace.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Approach Prayer

How do we approach prayer? Where do we position prayer in our lives?

We should allow ourselves to burst into prayer as often as possible. Our hearts and minds should always be filled with thoughts of God’s goodness. Our actions should be helping us move closer and closer to God. We must acknowledge our past, present, and future mistakes. Our lives are not easy. We strive to avoid sin.

Current events can sometimes influence our prayers. Our thoughts about health care, the economy, Afghan vote fraud allegations are good things to reflect on and to pray about.

Kim Clijsters’s victory over Li Na might encourage some of her fans to humbly ask for God’s help in the semifinals against No. 2 Serena Williams. Prayer is personal, prayer reflects who we are and how we view the world.


Tuesday, September 8, 2009

The Rosary

“Do YOU KNOW, I don’t think I can survive another conversation about religion. It’s rather strenuous.”

“Oh, Cecil, you must.”

“Please, Cecil.”

This always happened when Cecil read the Sunday newspaper on Wednesday evening after dinner.

“No, I can’t, the world is to scrambled up.”

“Oh, Cecil, kindest, try.”

“Oh, Cecil, please.”

“Dear, brave Cecil, you must speak.”

“No. I will not. Lorna will become angry and tear each sentence apart letter by letter.”

“No, she won’t, will you Lorna?”

“Lorna, tell him that you will not become angry.”

“Cecil, do say something about religion, please. We won’t have a moment peace until you give us your homespun homily.”

“Well, then, if you promise you won’t attack me--”

There was silence.

“I am beginning to enjoy the repetition of the Rosary. At first I thought it was childish but now I like it. I sometimes lose my place but I like repeating the prayers over and over. I have felt closer to God after saying the Rosary. Sometimes as I say the Rosary something happens which I can’t adequately describe but its like I leave my body or consciousness or something like that and there is nothing but peace and love and beauty.”

“Oh, Cecil, how wonderful.”

“I am surprised you didn’t mention original sin. You do still believe in original sin?”

“Why are you asking about original sin?”

“Why can’t I ask him about original sin? Does original sin make you uncomfortable or something?”

“I am not uncomfortable. You promised!”

“I am not angry. I am not tearing his sentences apart letter by letter. Since Cecil likes repeating things, I like thinking about original sin. Cecil, do you have your rosary with you?”

“Lorna, he does not. We just finished dinner and dessert. He didn’t have room to bring it.”

“But, he did leave room in his brain to think of it. I am so glad that he was able to ramble on about peace and love and repeating something. It helped me digest dinner.”

“Lorna are you trying to tear him apart letter by letter.”

“My dear that steak was too tough. My jaws are too exhausted from chewing to become angry with anybody. I am going to my room. Good night.”

A bedroom door closes loudly.

“Lorna is really angry tonight.”

“I suspected that she might be more irritable tonight than usual.”

“She has been very weird all evening.”

“She had lunch with Mother today and then they went shopping.”

“I suspect that she ate too much and bought too little. I am sure that Mother told her that she must go to confession.”

“Mother would not stop there. It is time for Lorna to go to church, go to confession, get married and have children.”

“I am glad that she is the oldest. I am glad that she receives all of Mother’s attention.”

“But, you know sooner or later we all receive Mother’s attention.”

“Cecil, you’re right. Cecil, please teach me how to pray the Rosary. I must be prepared for Mother’s attention.”

Labor Day Weekend Another Glance

Labor Day is now a memory, another collection of events in my life. This Labor Day Weekend is the most memorable of my adult life. I enjoyed spending time with friends and family. This weekend was a time of sharing. Life continued moving at its steady ever increasing pace. But, for a brief instance everything stopped and I remembered to praise and give thanks to God.

At the center of the weekend, the beauty and image of a loving family gathered together to celebrate the matriarch’s sixty-ninth birthday warms my heart. Each person was there united to show respect, love, and good wishes to both the family and to the beautiful birthday lady.

What a wonderful lesson it was watching people working together, showing their concern, their vulnerability. What a beautiful evening it was viewed from the roof top of an office building in downtown Washington with awe inspiring views of the US Capitol, the Washington Monument, and other buildings on the skyline. Looking down at the US Capitol reflecting pool, surrounded by lights pleased me. I said several little prayers and I remembered seeing it from other angles, other perspectives.

At one point there was a discussion of where to attend Mass on Sunday. I was so pleased to have been invited but I had to decline because I was going to New York City. Immediately I was asked where I was going to attend Mass in New York? At Saint Patrick’s? I was also asked if I was still attending daily Mass. I made some feeble excuse about stopping in June.

Well, the question of daily Mass remained with me, in my heart and my mind. Luckily I had the internet connection and was able to locate a church within walking distance and was able to attend Sunday Mass, Monday Mass, and now I about to attend Tuesday 8:00 AM Mass.

Faith always needs encouragement. We have to remember to leave ourselves open to it.

In the crazy fast paced hurly-burly that is modern American life, any reason to spend time with loved ones should be cherished. Each second that we’re with those who love us is precious. Each time someone shows unconditional concern, unconditional love is beautiful. Our lives are filled with many sacred moments which are often missed because we are in a hurry, we are to busy to think and interpret the words.

A birthday party is a celebration for not just one person but for everyone present. Beyond the champagne and apple cider toasts, beyond the cake and candles, this birthday was about hope, remembering all the loved ones, both present and absent, alive and dead.

It was a celebration that gently highlighted a lifetime of beautiful sacrifices.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Occasionally

Sitting at a round unfinished wooden table, I wonder what type of trees are in this garden and I wonder what type of birds sits alone on the limb. When I look upward a swarm of mosquitos can be seen flying in an oval type pattern. On the sidewalk beyond the garden, various pedestrians walk by. A woman with red hair talks on her cell phone and paces back and forth, back and forth. She does something with her free hand, her left hand. A yellow sports car speeds by. Another woman carrying a large shoulder bag walks by. A man dressed in dark colors walks by with a dark backpack surgically attached to his back. The pacing woman continues talking on her cell phone, and apparently her left hand is involved in the conversation. Some of the movements of this hand are fluid, controlled as if they were visual punctuating a point. A petite blonde woman appears and two little children follow her. A white four door sedan and taxi passes by.

The city is alive with possibilities and anxieties and the occasional melodic sound of a blowing horn. In this private garden, a fountain soothes the ears while the occasional flapping wings is a pleasant surprise. Here is a moment of solitude.

The leaves on the trees gently sway as a genial breeze floats by. There are all types of mechanical sounds to isolate and decipher. People keep walking by, some holding cell phones to their heads, others just tightly focused, staring ahead. Occasionally, a pair of eyes will glance into the garden.

A pigeon decides to stroll in the garden. Soon another one appears, followed by a third one. The leaves still move softly in the wind. The pigeon flaps its wings, flies to another part of the garden. It is searching for food perhaps. It’s little legs move it quickly across the concrete stones.

Across the street is the Church of the Epiphany. I attended Mass there yesterday at 4:00 PM. The priest spoke with a thick, foreign accent. I strained to understand him. He was a happy man with a big inviting smile, full of life, full of hope, full of God’s love. This morning I attended the 9:00 AM Mass. A different priest appeared. He was a corpulent man who once had a booming voice, he spoke as if out of breath in deep tones followed by a half whisper. The varying tones were oddly pleasant to my ears. For a moment I thought that this priest should have been painted by Rembrandt or any Flemish painter. For here was a happy servant of the Lord.

I look at the tabletop and notice some faint blue scribbles, maybe crayon or magic marker. My mind tries to remember the two homilies. What returns now are not the words but how each priest brought the word of God to life. Both priests were conversational, spoke in understandable English in simple words.

As I was leaving the church, I noticed a poster for priests.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

On the Road to a Devout Life

I have finished reading Introduction to the Devout Life by Francis De Sales. My only regret is that I delayed picking up the book. The book is filled with insight and directions describing how to live a life of devoted service to God. It is a short book which everybody should read and apply to their lives. All the vices, which were present at the creation of the book, are still around and are creating havoc and confusion in our lives.

Putting the examinations into practice will be another challenge. Exploring our minds is often a little frightening. But taking time to study how and why some decisions were made, to label some activities as sin or not, to understand our love for God and his love for us, and to unravel our sense of vocation and service to God will make us better, more faithful loving Christians.

It is not my intent to provide a book review. This book does not need one. Modern life is one large print advertisement for the best life that money can create. The messages are often in conflict, our desires are often confused. Advertising creates a hollowness, a perpetual uneasiness as we wait for the next product which will do more, make us cleaner, smell better, look better. Sometime the uneasiness leads to sin.

Life is better when there is a focus. It is easier to move through each day when a goal is clearly visible. When our faith and belief in God are allowed to lead us, the journey is simpler. We know where we are going, no maps are needed.

This journey stands in direct opposition to all that which is modern, scientific, based upon consumerism, individualistic. The difficulty of this journey begins and ends with us and what lives inside of us. How and what we love are very important! How we view good and evil is very important! How we describe and deal with sin is very important.

When we believe in God we accept the knowledge that there are other believers. We must reach out to others for guidance and help sometimes. Doing this can strength our Faith in God. It is comforting to know that there are others out there trying to follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ.

Now, my mind is racing all around, filled with ideas of how to put the book into practice. Part of me is ready to begin meditating. My soul is trying to prepare a way for me to commune with God which can be integrated into my life and become an important component of my being.

Life provides many questions. Faith encourages me to enter into a time of serious discernment as I search for both questions and then answers about the best way to love God and to be of service to him and to the Church.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Sharing A Birthday In September

Just a couple of hours ago, I embarked upon a journey. I went in search of an unfamiliar building in an unfamiliar part of the city guided by hope and a vague sense of direction. I am not very good at map reading, especially when I am in a hurry and I look at two maps with “You are here” red circles on them. Of course I am going to be confused. Of course because I am in a hurry, I am going to use the wrong exit and begin walking the wrong way.

For a moment the journey is filled with a moment of cinematic fear and apprehension as I plot a new course and hope that my arrival time will not be inconvenient.

And so I walk along almost empty streets on a Saturday night at twilight, half wanting to stop and photograph the buildings and sky. And so I walk along thinking of St. Peter, St. Matthew, St. Roberto Bellarmine. My mind is filled with images of the pedestrian free sidewalks and thoughts of where and when to attend Mass tomorrow.

I often enjoy walking alone but I think that the experience is better when the sidewalks are alive with other people moving, talking, stopping, pointing. I was unsure of my route but hopeful that I would arrive at my destination. This Saturday night was filled with importance and urgency. I was going to a birthday party.

Briefly, my eyes did see people sitting outside a building, my heart realized that they were waiting for the shelter to open. I said a quick prayer for the women and children that I saw.

My sense of direction was correct and I did arrive at the building. Luckily, familiar faces were waiting on the street and I was happy to be recognized.

I was pleased to be attending this sixty-ninth birthday celebration. It was a small family event. I was honored to be there. An assortment of loving men, women and children were present, laughing, talking, remembering, loving. We were assembled on the roof top of an office building with an impressive view of the skyline. The U.S. Capitol was so close and dreamlike, the Washington Monument refused to blend into background. The sky was multicolored, beautiful, breathtaking.

There was something universal, something very inspirational about that moment. Each time we are lucky enough to share a birthday with someone we are sharing more than just one moment, but the combined moments of all the people who we have loved and who have loved us during our lifetimes.

And the heart of the sixty-nine year old birthday girl was filled with love and all types of gentle memories. She was happy to share this moment with her family. Sitting there surrounded by her children, waiting for the photographer to capture this moment, she was smiling and joking filled with little anecdotes and stories about other pictures, other family members. She was filled with so much love that it was easy to imagine her reminding them to go to Mass, encouraging them to go to confession, listening to them discuss their fears and aspirations.

She is good natured, gentle, and genial.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Pray for the Labor Day Weekend

Often when each new weekend arrives, several options arrive in attendance with all types of opportunities which will need to be considered before a decision can be made. Life is made up of opportunities and options. Faith requires prayer and meditation. Together life and faith can provide strength, power, hope.

Holiday weekends often involve anxiety as plans are created and finalized; as the weather report is reviewed again and again.

And as the Labor Day weekend begins, we must remember to take a moment to examine ourselves and how we live our lives and interact with others.

We must always remember to pray.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Survival and Hope

September remains a month of survival and hope. As the summer vacation season officially ends, autumn waits with many surprises. The temperatures might remain in the eighties. Rain might dampen a few plans. Hurricane warning may disrupt s few imaginations.

Often September arrives with such a force that even the most ordered life can suddenly appear chaotic, turned upside down. Anxiety can play games with our sense of perspective, our sense of reality.

Many diversions wait to capture our attention. School resumes, the football season resumes, the US Open dominates the news as tennis becomes the sport of kings.

Sometimes, so much is being covered in the media and being remembered and shared by our loved ones, that life can for a moment be a little overwhelming. Being overwhelmed briefly might be a good thing, a natural thing. Every so often we must realign ourselves. Being caught off guard might in some instances be good for us if it causes us to examine our hearts, our minds, and our souls.

In this modern age of technological wonder, science tries to explain everything in cool logical sentences. All impulses are rooted in some situation which have an explanation. Our lives can easily be explained. Our hearts are relieved of the restrictions of good and bad. Our faith is often under attack because empirical evidence is often ephemeral. Because pundits have a mantra of “being open and transparent” many people believe that their personal lives and the lives of their friends and family should also have that mantra. That mantra is both dangerous and deceitful.

When we believe in God, we accept a truth which may not be rationally, easily described. When we believe in God, we accept a mystery. Our belief does not mean that we blindly believe this and that. Our belief provides us with information for our brains and inspiration for both our hearts and souls. Believing in God is a workout for the soul, the heart, and the mind. All three must provide ideas and insight. All three must be involved, monitoring what we do and don’t do, what tempts and what doesn’t tempt us.

Every moment of our lives does not, should not be on display. Too much knowledge is a bad thing. Too much knowledge destroys the very essence of being an individual, of being human. When too much is known there is nothing to be shared, nothing to be learned. It is easy to become complacent, and arrogant. Knowledge easily obtained without work and discipline can lead to pride, envy, selfishness. Moderation is always necessary.

Modesty and purity are always necessary in our lives but they are neither fashionable or easily understandable by people lost within the anxiety and the mantras.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Double faults and Prayers Welcome

I read an article in the New York Times today which made me smile. It was about tennis. Tennis is one sport that I know very little about but which can easily hypnotize me when the ball is being smacked back and forth between players.

Apparently this year as the US Open began, many of the female players are having problems with their serves and having “double faults.” I think that I had heard of a double fault before, but I really did not have an idea of what it actually was.

Before this article I viewed the serve as just another element of tennis and did not search for similarities with other sports. Naturally, the author of the article compared the serve to basketball free throws.

The tennis player controls the tennis ball only during the serve. This was interesting for me to think about and to accept. And it provided a wobbly way for me to think about prayer.

When we pray we control our messages to God. How we pray is a personal decision.

Prayer, like a good tennis serve, does require both practice and effort. We need to give ourselves time to examine our lives, our hearts, and our souls. Each time we pray, it becomes a little easier, becomes more natural. Each time we pray hopefully we become a little bit better at it.

As a spectator I never really considered the idea that anyone had control of the tiny furry tennis ball. I remember my tennis playing days as saying a prayer to hit the tennis ball, saying a prayer for the ball to fly across the net, saying a prayer for the ball to land in the appropriate box. At no point would I have imagined or accepted the idea that I was in control of that fuzzy yellow ball.

As a child prayer was always a big part of my life. In the morning, I sometimes overheard my Grandmother softly praying at the side of her bed before starting her day, then there were prayers before each meal, and then, there were bedtime prayers. Also, occasionally special visitors caused special prayers to be said. The prayers were of praise, thanks, remembrance, and requests for “clean hearts” and “pure minds” of various family members. Widows and orphans were also always included. For a long time I considered praying to be beautiful, complicated recitations filled with familiar names, praising and thanking God, and a reminder that we all are sinners and all always need God’s help.

When a tennis player serves, they must focus their attention on the tennis ball. They must forget everything else that might be occurring around them. For a brief instance it is them and the tennis ball.

When we pray, it should be the same way. Our minds should focus attention on God. We must try not to be distracted by things happening near us. We need to take time and communicate with God. What we say is private, personal.

I wonder how many “double faults” I have committed.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Thinking About Charity

September has arrived. The schools have reopened for the fall term. The children have disappeared from the parks and streets. Sunrise arrives a little later each morning, but remains just as beautiful and inspiring.

Ideas, like emergency vehicle sirens make loud distracting noises for a couple of seconds and then disappear.

Looking down at the empty playground, completely almost completely covered in shadows, is that how a heart without charity looks? Abandoned, lonely, dangerous, intimidating?

Creating typographical and grammatical errors at seven forty-five in the morning is a difficult skill to develop. The brain and the fingers are rarely thinking about the same word. The eyes are constantly looking at the horizon, thinking, imagining, remembering.

Feeling the morning sun, warm against my face, my mind decides to be defiant as I try and remember something specific from my youth. My mind struggles to uncover distinct lessons where charity, and charity alone was spotlighted. Of course my brain rebels. The flutter of wings of a black bird taking off from a nearby building teases my ears.

My left hand scratches my face. The honking horns, sunlight reflecting from the still damp concrete roof of a building capture my imagination. The grinding and whirring sounds from a nearby construction site invades my brain. I hear the deep guttural rumblings of a diesel motor, probably a shiny heavy smoke belching truck with a hundred wheels blocking traffic on a narrow street with a slight incline.

Lessons about charity are not often isolated but incorporated within daily living. Sadly modern colloquial definitions sometimes add derogatory meaning to charity. Of the virtues and as a basis for having a life of social justice and fairness, charity is essential. Without charity love can not exist.

Lucky are those who can live with charity influencing their hearts and lives, who think of the welfare of others and are always willing to lend assistance. Our lives are improved when we move through each days using the different virtues as needed.

All the virtues are equal. All are necessary.

During a quiet moment, allow your mind to return to the past, to a memory filled with love and goodness, allow yourself to feel and hear all of the sensations of that moment, and allow yourself to say thank you for the memory, then and now.

Always be looking for new ways to create and to live a life filled with the virtues. Never forget the beauty of living with charity in your heart and soul. Charity creates the awe inspiring sunrise within us.