Christopher is reading this classic in his first-grade reader. I don’t know if it’s a classic in the technical sense (generally defined as a book most intelligent people own but have never actually read unless forced to by a third party such as a teacher or other guy you are doing your best to impress) … but it brings up pleasant memories. My mother, you see, was the original Campfire Girl. She knew a million little ditties, complete with actions and sound effects, to keep children entertained for hours on end. (Since we had no television, it didn’t take much to keep us entertained back […]

Non-traditional (that is, non-bio) parents all experience it sometime: the clutch in the pit of the stomach the day their adopted children look up with big, trusting eyes, asking to know the story of how they came to be… where they came to be. Depending on their ages, we instinctively shield them from the less palatable parts of the story – especially the parts that are potentially damaging to their budding little selves. A six-year-old does not need to be reminded of the gruesome details that led him to be taken away from his birth parents. And a four-year-old may simply be seeking the assurance […]

Congratulations are in order. Sarah has learned to spell her first word: F-A-R-T. OK, so she had a little help from her (*giggle*) older brother. “Sarah,” I admonish her. “That’s a bathroom word, and young ladies don’t run around spelling bathroom words.” (Man, I sound like such a priss … but manners have to start somewhere, right?) She catches my eye, trying to assess just how serious her infraction was. “How about ‘toot’? Is ‘toot’ a bathroom word?” The girl is only five, and already she is running mental laps around her mother. “Just stop saying ‘F-A-R-T,’ OK?” It amazes me, how fast they pick […]

I was coming out of church last week when I saw her: A former housemate who had exited my life suddenly, gracelessly, and on very bad terms. Her official reason for wanting to break the lease was the “ancient” farmhouse plumbing, which was a little too rustic to suit her. In actuality, it was my “provential” attitude that sent her over the edge. She and our other housemate (whose name did not appear on the lease) ganged up to persuade me to bend on the “no opposite-sex overnight house guest” policy; when I refused, they walked. I was grateful when the farmer who rented the […]

When Christopher came out of his room this morning for breakfast, he had a little book clutched against his chest. “What’s that, Buddy?” I asked. He held it up proudly. The Holy Rosary. “It’s for Show-and-Tell,” he said. “Umm…” Brilliant. Part of me was tickled that my son takes his faith so seriously … and part of me knows that it could present problems for him to bring this particular book into a school as ethnically diverse and federally funded as his. “Why do you want to bring it in?” “Well, this is the week that Jesus died, right?” “Right.” “And this is the week […]

Casually seven-year-old Christopher bit into a french fry and announced that today in school “Jill” told him that not only women can marry men; men can marry men, too. And women can marry women. “It’s the law,” his classmate, also seven, informed my son. “It is not!” Christopher argued, confident that she had her facts garbled. “Is, too!” she countered with irrefutible seven-year-old logic. I had counted on a few more years before needing to have this particular conversation. But if they’re big enough to ask the question, they’re big enough to have the facts. “Christopher, there are people who want to change God’s law […]

Funny thing happened today. I was sending out a special mailing to a few institutions I thought should subscribe to “Canticle,” and was going to include a copy of one of our recent articles that seemed particularly relevent to their needs. I had a simple choice to make: color copies, which would make the better impression? Or black-and-white, which was significantly cheaper? It was tempting to go the cheaper route, as I was financing this effort myself. But then I thought, “What impression do I want to make here? What is going to get the results? How much faith do I have that God is […]

Sarah is at the age when monsters regularly come to visit her in the night. Piercing shrieks descend from the upper regions of the house each night like clockwork, precisely at 11:30. We’ve tried reassuring her, squirting a “safety zone” around her bed with “monster repellant” (holy water), talking about the guardian angel that sits beside her all night (that seemed to have the opposite of its intended effect). Now we just take turns lying beside her and singing her to sleep, resigning ourselves to the fact that, come 11:30, there will be one more body in our king-sized bed. Tonight as I was going […]