Thought for the day

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who as the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. [Theodore Roosevelt]

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Perils of a Catholic Upbringing

As  I walked down the busy sidewalk with my wife, knowing I was late for Mass, my eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, ragged vagabonds that are found in every city these days.

Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.

Recalling my old pastor, Father Gino, who always admonished me to “care for the sick, feed the hungry and clothe the naked,” I was moved by some powerful inner urge to reach out to this unfortunate  person.
Wearing what can only be described as rags, carrying her treasured worldly possessions in two plastic bags, my heart was touched by this person’s condition. 

Yes, where some  people saw only rags, I saw a true, hidden  beauty.

A small voice inside my head called out, “Luigi, Reach out, reach out and touch this person!”

So I did.
Broken bones
I won’t be at Mass for a while.
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