Although my body informs me otherwise, I still think of myself as somewhere between 37 and 39 years old (or is that my current waist size?).
Although my body informs me otherwise, I still think of myself as somewhere between 37 and 39 years old (or is that my current waist size?).
By now, you have probably seen the heartwarming Polish Christmas ad that has been watched more than 12 million times. It tells the tale of an aging man trying to learn English alone at home, labeling household objects with Post-its before taking a trip to the United Kingdom and … actually, it is probably best if you watch the video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=tU5Rnd-HM6A (warning, there is some cursing at the 1:30 mark).
by Kathleen M. Gallagher, This year, my Christmas Moment came on Thanksgiving Day.
Once again, the Church year has begun with the season of Advent. This is a time of hope, of preparation, of expectation. Despite all past mistakes – globally, nationally or personally – we can open ourselves to a spiritual renewal. We are reminded once again that the coming of God into the world through Christ did not happen in a perfect world.
by Rita Piro, Christmas is for kids. How often have we heard this said? Or perhaps said it ourselves.
by Tara Franco, A few years back, as I was sitting on the couch watching television and snuggling with my Weimaraner, Lucy, I recall viewing the Cymbalta commercial for the very first time. On the surface, this commercial struck me because the depicted family also owned a large Weimaraner.
“Hurt, Hungry, Homeless. Need Food, Money, LOVE” (followed by a large heart drawn in bold marker) read the cardboard sign flat on the sidewalk. A dirty, disheveled man of indeterminate age lay next to the sign as the sun was setting on Mercer St. near Washington Square on a recent cold evening.
by Maureen Pratt
First, it was my car. Next, my refrigerator. Then, my computer. By the time I saw my cardiologist today, I fully expected to leave his office with a ream of new prescriptions and a few new cardio-preserving exercise moves. Why?
What is a pilgrimage? Is there any benefit from going to one? What does one get out of it?
Bustling was the word with which you could characterize Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, during the 1950s and ’60s.