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By: Father Pablo Migone
Originally Appeared in : 9914-7/4/19
On a Sunday morning 10 years ago while visiting the fascinating city of Istanbul, I left my hotel to attend Mass in one of the few Catholic Churches of the city. I went early since I did not have the exact address, but the concierge at the hotel had somewhat explained to me where the church was located. I walked back and forth, back and forth, down two blocks of a busy street and I could not find the church. How could I miss it? This was after all the cathedral of Istanbul.
 
By: Rachel Balducci
Originally Appeared in : 9914-7/4/19
I took five of my children to serve with the Missionaries of Charity last week, helping out with their summer Bible camp for Burmese refugee children. It was an intense week, full of service and prayer and lots of fun.
 
By: Jason Halcombe
Originally Appeared in : 9914-7/4/19
Leftover Chinese food and straight to bed sounds like a blessing to most adults and all parents (Magan: “Can I do that, every night?”), but a curse to any child less than two weeks into summer vacation.
 
That’s what stared Jesse straight in the face after an epic fail in attempting to draw a rise out of his older brother at a computer coding class hosted by our local library.
 
By: Padre Pablo Migone
Originally Appeared in : 9914-7/4/19
En una mañana de domingo hace diez años durante mi visita a la fascinante ciudad de Estambul, me dirigí a una de las pocas iglesias católicas de la ciudad para asistir a la Misa. Fui temprano ya que no tenía la dirección exacta, pero el portero del hotel si me había explicado un poco donde se encontraba la iglesia. Caminé varias veces por las dos mismas cuadras de una avenida muy transitada de la ciudad y no pude encontrar la iglesia. ¿Cómo podía no verla? ¡Esta era la catedral de Estambul!
 
By: Father Pablo Migone
Originally Appeared in : 9913-6/20/19
I arrived to the office where I had booked a tour of the landing beaches of Normandy. It was a beautiful spring day; the sun shining brightly with an occasional cool breeze reminding me that I was close to the edge of the world. The tour appeared to be delayed, so I sat for several minutes outside the office which was right across the street from the train station of Bayeux. About 10 minutes after the anticipated departure time, the gentleman who was to lead the group informed me the tour had been cancelled. I demanded an alternative as the man rudely walked away.
By: Rachel Balducci
Originally Appeared in : 9913-6/20/19
“Age is only important if you’re a cheese.” — author unknown
 
By: Jason Halcombe
Originally Appeared in : 9913-6/20/19
The emergence of a polka-dotted member of the family had created a conundrum for Vigil Mass attendance that evening.
 
Magan had been giving Elijah a summertime trim in the garage when we both noticed our 5-year-old bespeckling before our very eyes.
 
By: Padre Pablo Migone
Originally Appeared in : 9913-6/20/19
Llegué a la oficina turística donde había hecho una reserva para un tour de las playas del desembarco de Normandía. Era un hermoso día de primavera. El sol brillaba y una brisa fresca no me permitía olvidar que estaba muy cerca del borde del mundo. Ya que el tour estaba retrasado me senté por unos minutos afuera de la oficina la cual estaba frente a la estación de tren de Bayeux. Unos diez minutos después de la hora prevista de salida, el joven que iba a dirigir el tour me informó que la visita guiada había sido cancelada.
By: Father Pablo Migone
Originally Appeared in : 9912-6/6/19

A dark green Mercedes-Benz slowly came to a complete stop on a busy intersection as the light turned red. It was a cold day. On the tan leather back seat of the car sat a 15 or 16-year-old young man. Riding alone, his eyes had been fixed on the headrest in front of him, but as the car reached the light he turned his eyes toward the window. Within seconds another young man about his same age approached the car selling something. He held a wooden box full of bubble gum tightly secured around his neck with a weathered piece of yarn. wThe young man wore old, tattered clothes.

By: Rachel Balducci
Originally Appeared in : 9912-6/6/19

It’s not you; it’s May and end of the year collections and pool parties will be ancient history. It will all be behind us. But today, as I write my column, I’m staring it down. I’m right smack dab in the middle of the last week of school, and life feels nuts.

 

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