A Simple Life

I feel as if this summer has just begun, and at the same time I feel that it has been extremely full of adventures and love already. Just after school ended, I was able to be with my family in NM and celebrate my sister and brother-in-law's renewal of vows. The Christian ceremony was beautiful and it was great to see so much family in one place. The day after, I traveled to Holly, MI where my community hosts Seeds of Hope, an annual leadership conference for young women from our four Felician high schools. I had the opportunity to serve the young ladies behind the scenes, but also found time to laugh with them and play a few outdoor games when the weather permitted. At the end of the week I drove to Canada with Sister Maria Louise and two students who had attended the program. I stayed there a few days and had a great time. Sister Maria Louise and I watched lots of movies at home since 1) we both thoroughly enjoy watching movies and 2) it rained during most of my time there. We also painted some lady bug pet rocks for ourselves and visited the majestic Niagara Falls when God granted us a sunny day. Straight

from Canada I traveled to Chicago where I spent almost a week with Sister Heather. We walked Nala, the 2-year-old Weimaraner pup who has a mind of her own, twice a day, every day. I actually kind of miss the exercise, but we did a few other things besides dog sit. We went on a picnic, braved the traffic for some ice cream, and even found time to wash the car.

As much as I enjoyed every moment mentioned above, as well as all the moments in between, it was my departure from Chicago that sent me down an unexpected and profound path. The morning of my departure, I decided to go out the backdoor. The Sisters don't have a recycle bin, but their neighbors do, so rather than throw my plastic bottles in the trash I figured the neighbors wouldn't mind a few extra bottles in their recycle bin. Well, I stepped outside to a very sad sight: two baby birds on the cement steps next to each other, fallen from their nest above the door. They were so young that neither of them had any feathers. To my surprise, one of them had survived the fall. I called Sister Heather over and she thought perhaps we could get it back into the nest. She brought me a step ladder, so I picked up the little bird and climbed up, but it was no use. The nest was too high. I was running out of time, but she thought maybe a phone book would add some height and so she brought that over too. Placing it on the step ladder I tried again, but the nest was still too far out of reach. Being the 4th of July, I knew that any wildlife refuge center would be closed. I didn't know what else to do, so I figured, "If it's going to die, I can at least give it a soft and warm place to be in the meantime." I resolved to sneak it onto the flight with me.

I had a nice fuzzy sweater on hand so I gently placed the little bird inside the pocket and we left for the airport. During the drive my mind was working overtime to try and figure out how I would actually pull this off. "Should I try to wear the sweater through security?" I wondered. "No," I thought, "They'll see something in the pocket and I could get caught." As you know, my options were very limited. "Ok," I decided, "I'm going to leave her in the pocket and place the sweater in the bin that goes through the scanner. Maybe they'll see her, but maybe it'll just seem so odd that they won't say anything." I said goodbye as Sister Heather dropped me off, and I eventually made my way to security. My heart was pounding as I stood in line. "What if this doesn't work? What if they find her and take her? What would they do with her, throw her away?" The suspense at what might happen had me so nervous I even thought that perhaps the body scanners were possibly able to detect a person's heart rate so they could tell whether or not someone was trying to hide something. "If that's the case," I thought, "I better calm down or they'll know something's up! Just breathe.." I stared at my sweater as it slowly traveled along the conveyor belt. "Please don't beep, please don't beep.. If there's no beep then everything's fine.. Please don't beep." I stepped through the body scanner, watched my bag come out the other side, and then my sweater.. No beep! The little bird made it through security after all. I grabbed my belongings and headed to my gate.

I had brought a plum and banana with me, so I figured some mashed banana might be an ok snack for my new travel companion. I must say that feeding her was one of the most exciting aspects of caring for the little creature. She would open her beak, which was still soft around the edges, and chirp with her tiny tongue sticking out. Her neck was still so weak that her head would wobble all over the place and I'd have to try to hold her steady as she searched for the food on the tip of my pinky. Now that I had time to look up more details about baby birds on my phone, I checked to see how I might be able to best care for her during what I figured were the last hours of her life. We had about an hour left before boarding, a four hour flight to Sacramento, a two hour layover, and a final one hour flight from Sacramento to Ontario. I wasn't sure how long she'd last, but I wanted to make her as comfortable as possible.

I discovered that birds her size needed to be fed about every ten minutes from sunrise to 10:00 p.m. I fed her as much banana as I could while we waited for the plane, but once we boarded and took off, her appetite diminished. After about two hours, she only slept and was no longer moving around as energetically as before. By now the woman next to me had discovered why I was putting banana into my pocket and we started to chat. She told me about a son who was in prison and struggling with a drug addiction. "When I saw your crucifix," she said, "I just started praying." She told me she hadn't been to church in a while, but that she believed it would be best for her and her son if she started going again. In between stories, we would check on our little bird and both express how much we wanted her to live. At one point I was able to give the little one some banana and the woman marveled at the sight. "She's in good hands," she said with a smile. As we got ready to land, we discovered that we were both on the next flight together.

As we waited, I decided the bird needed something more than banana to eat. Besides, it was getting her all sticky and I had to pat her down with a damp paper towel to free her legs from the sides of her belly. "Perhaps avocado," I thought, and so the search began. I found a little string of restaurants near our gate and purchased a single avocado from a burger joint. As I was walking past a pizza place I heard someone call out, "Excuse me!" I turned to see a young woman about my age looking at me from behind the counter. "Excuse me," she said again, "Can I talk to you? Do you have some time?" "Of course," I said, and I walked over as she pushed some condiments out of the way. "Can you pray for me?" she asked. "Can you pray that I find peace and happiness? I struggle with anger." I talked with her for a moment and then we prayed right there together. She kindly offered to refill the water bottle I had in my hand and I returned to my gate. Unfortunately my little pal didn't eat much more, but she was still breathing. The woman and I kept checking to see that her little rib cage was expanding and contracting regularly.

When we boarded the plane we sat together again and were joined by a smiling 14-year-old girl. We decided to show her the little treasure in my sweater pocket and the three of us had a great conversation all the way into Ontario. Both of them declared that it was the first time they had ever sat next to a nun. The young girl said, "You're nice. I thought they were all mean like they show in the movies." We laughed and talked about more serious issues too, such as divorce and difficult family situations. We occasionally checked on our precious cargo and were relieved each time to see that she was still breathing. We weren't certain of her future, but we were all really hoping she'd survive.

My dear little featherless friend lived only about one hour after my arrival home. I was

surprised she had even made it that far, but I was disappointed to have to let her go. I buried her in our backyard and put a small cross on top of the spot where she is. In honor of Padre Pio and at the suggestion of one of my former students (Rio Mendez), I named her Pia.

Pia was a part of my journey for a mere matter of hours, yet her simple life allowed me to touch the lives of others with whom I likely wouldn't have spoken otherwise. Caring for this little bird caused a sort of domino effect and led to conversations that may change the course of many lives forever. Who knows, maybe the woman I sat next to will start going to church regularly and through a renewed relationship with God may inspire her son to seek a path of healing. Or perhaps the young woman I prayed with will find the peace she seeks and in return give glory to God by helping lead others out of their struggle with anger. Or maybe the 14-year-old who never knew religious sisters were nice will open her heart to discerning a vocation to the religious life. The pssibilities are endless, as are the mysterious ways in which God works. Pia was just a little bird fighting for life on the steps of a convent; but no life, no matter how simple, is ever without purpose.

*As a side note, here is a link which explains what you should do if you ever find a baby bird fallen out of its nest.
http://healthypets.mercola.com/sites/healthypets/archive/2011/05/24/when-rescuing-a-baby-bird-is-not-the-compassionate-thing-to-do.aspx

All Aboard!

My mom and baby sister, Angelina, will be coming out to California on the train to visit for the second time since I've been here! Their last visit was awesome and I know it's going to be amazing again. But you know what? This time there's more. This time my younger sister Johnele, her husband Andrew, and my niece and nephew - Grace and Jeremiah - will be coming as well! It will not only be their first family trip (how fantastic!!), but also the first time they will see where I live, who I live with, where I minister, and who my kids are. And if it couldn't get any better, they will also be here to see the dance recital that keeps me occupied for half of the year. (In case you were wondering, the dance recital is basically one of my biggest accomplishments of all time.)

You will never know just how happy all of this makes me.

I travel back and forth about three times a year to visit my family in New Mexico. It's always a great trip and I love being a part of the daily routines I once enjoyed as well as learning new daily routines as our family evolves. I get to take Angelina to school and pick her up; I get to stay up late with my sister and brother-in-law as they try to put the babies in bed; I get to have meals, watch movies and get up in the morning with the people God gave me as lifelong companions. Until now, however, I didn't realize that I hadn't shared my daily routines with them.

Although my mom and Angelina have been able to visit me a couple of times, they, like the rest of my family, have not been here while school is in session. This time, they will be here for a whole Friday and so can step into my classroom and enter into my life as a teacher. None of them have been able to do this before.

Johnele and Andrew will see where I live and pray and who I joke around with at the dinner table. They will witness an element of who I have become that they would otherwise not know about. They will see my bedroom where I plan, think and dream. They will finally get to know the routines and environment that are so much a part of me.

All of this, and more... My family will be here to witness a major stage production that I help plan and bring to fruition. They will watch a performance that I and some very dedicated students create through costumes, choreography, music and lots of energy. Countless hours, which turn into months, are required for a production like this. This will be my second year to put on a dance recital and I actually will have family here to witness it.

When the disciples asked Jesus where He lived, He simply said, "Come and see." An invitation into someone's home is an invitation into that person's very self. This is why I'm so glad my family will be able to "come and see".

Pray for their safe travels, please!

2-Year-old Grace

3-Year-Old Jeremiah

Falling in Love

I am in love
with Sunday afternoons and ice cream splurges
with laughter and the gentle guidance of mentors

I am in love
with the singing and screeching that greets me after lunch
and with complaints about homework, heat and boys

I am in love
with the scent of California jasmine
and the cool evening breeze on my dusty skin

Each of these is a divine whisper
adding to the song that birthed my beginning
and each time I listen
I find again
myself, God's image, and thus God's own humming heart

Happy Feelings!

C h r i s t m a s  2 0 1 4

My mom keeping me hydrated and letting me sleep for hours in order to fight off the flu

Music that can only reveal its magic and meaning during this much anticipated season

Reading an unforgettable book (Left to Tell)

Sleepovers with my sisters

Staff parties

A woman offering a man a ride because he was walking in the painfully cold wind

Snow resting ever so l i g h t l y upon the dust of the desert

Hot chocolate

Watching the sun set on the ride back to California

Sharing my train snacks with a hungry friend





Conversations of reminiscing and conversations of pondering


Card games


Seeing joy spread across the faces of my nephew and niece as they opened their Christmas gifts

Searching for that perfect woolly sweater

Lights strung up and decorations glistening throughout homes and neighborhoods

Family - lots and lots of family

Discovering classic Christmas songs done by the PENTATONIX

Workers smiling and joking around at the Salvation Army thrift store


The Nutcracker

Baking cookies

Watching Sister Genevieve refuse to place the infant Jesus in our manger scene for Mass because she loved him so much she didn't want to let him go

Life of Pi

This is by far one of my favorite movies.  Let me tell you why...

In struggling with the division that seeks to infiltrate the silence of my heart, I came to identify with the young man stuck on a tiny boat with a tiger in the middle of an ocean.  How?  Well, the answer stems from the idea that Pi's story is supposed to lead his interviewer to believe in God.

Pi presents his story in two different versions.  His first version is the one he chooses to believe: the story where, in the midst of chaos and peril, a hyena kills a zebra, then kills an orangutan, and then is himself killed by a tiger.  This tiger ends up being Pi's unlikely and unwelcome companion as he drifts about the ocean in waves of courage and despair.  At first Pi is terrified of this tiger, doing everything possible to avoid and distance himself from this fierce beast.  Eventually he hopes to tame the tiger, but realizes his only hope of survival lies in accepting this animal and situation for what it is.  The two almost become friends.  Pi even saves the life of the tiger on at least two separate occasions.  When they part ways in the end, Pi remains heartbroken into adulthood, wondering why the tiger never even looked back to say goodbye after all they had endured together.  However, each time Pi recounts this version of his story, no one believes him.  They all insist, "You could not have really survived at sea with a tiger.  Tell us the true version."

At the urging of two investigators from Japan, Pi gives us his second version:  This time a cook kills an injured passenger, then proceeds to kill Pi's mother, and then meets his end when Pi kills him.  The investigators listen in horror as Pi gives them the gruesome details, tears streaming down his face, as he describes watching his own mother die and then his own shocking and violent murder of the cook.  By the end, the investigators remain stunned.  "So, which version is true?" they wonder, not really wanting to fully grasp the horrific scene just illustrated for them.  "Which would you rather believe?" Pi asks.  When we are given the details of the report filed by the investigators, we learn they report the event as the first version Pi gives.  When Pi asks his interviewer this same question toward the end of the movie, the interviewer also chooses to believe the first version.

In relation to my interior struggle with division, I see these two stories as one:  The hyena represents the cook, the zebra represents the injured passenger, the orangutan represents Pi's mother, and the tiger represents Pi himself.  Pi is at first frightened when he realizes he is travelling with such a dangerous and savage creature.  Fear insists that distance must remain between them,
but deep down Pi knows that this will only result in his death.  He decides to tame the tiger, but that also fails, so what does he do?  He teaches himself how to co-exist with the beast.  Pi is the tiger.  The tiger is the side of this young man that emerged when Pi needed him to.  In a moment of extreme pain and violence, Pi responded by taking the life of another human being.  He acted in a way that shocked and scared him, so he tried to escape this side of himself he never knew existed and which he now did not want to exist.  He attempted to put as much distance as possible between the person he had always been and the person he now saw himself to be.  But it wasn't working.  Neither did it work to try and tame this part of himself.  Pi needed the new found strength and courage of this beast to survive, and so he integrated this creature into his person.  Thus, as this side of him simply disappears when his journey at sea comes to an end (this journey representing a time in his life marked by excitement, confusion and loss), Pi is heartbroken.  He had learned how to love this side of himself, and now it simply departs, never to be seen again.

I have begun to examine my own stormy journey at sea.  I have seen this tiger emerge, and so am trying to understand what to do with it.  I have tried keeping it at bay, refusing to accept it as something that is a part of myself.  I have tried taming it, pretending it could be made docile, perhaps invisible.  But none of this is working.  How do I integrate this tiger into who I am?  And what is this tiger anyway?  What is the beast I am attempting to escape?  Hope comes in the fact that Pi learned to integrate his beast, even to the point of loving him.  Hope emerges as well in the second part of the interviewer's concern:  The idea that Pi's story is supposed to make him believe in God.

As the movie comes to an end, Pi explains to his interviewer, "I gave you two versions of the story.  I choose to believe in the version with the animals.  You, and the investigators, choose to believe that version as well.  I think God would also choose to see things that way."

Could you imagine if the movie had looked the way Pi described it the second time around?  Had we watched the cook kill an injured passenger and then kill Pi's mother, then later watched Pi kill the cook, we would have been horrified by all of the violence.  Instead, we saw the first version, played out as something tragic, yet somewhat natural.  We know that hyenas kill other animals and that tigers do the same, so it's sad, but it's a reality we can live with.  Pi tells us that God also chooses to watch life played out as the version with the animals.  Thus, God looks at our violence toward one another as something that is sadly a part of our nature rather than as something that is unforgivably brutal.  And how is this supposed to help us believe in God?  Well, who could not believe in a God so merciful?  Who would not want a Heavenly Father that sees beyond our sins into the heart of who we truly are?  By choosing to see things according to the version with the animals, Pi tells us, God is choosing to see our sinfulness as part of our human nature, but not necessarily as who we are.  Reflecting upon some words of Louis J. Cameli, we are sinners, but we are not sin.  We are murderers, but we are not murder.  Who would condemn a tiger for killing?  It is in a tiger's nature to do so.  Thus, according to Pi, God says, "How could I condemn my children for sinning?  It is in their nature to do so."  Unfortunately, in this fallen world, we regularly see humans brutally killing humans.  We see the violence; but God, in His mercy and compassion, chooses to see the tragic situations that lead us there.

And so, my second source of hope is that whatever my tiger may be, I trust God sees the chaos which summoned this creature from deep within me.  One day I will learn to integrate it, and then a day will come when perhaps I do not need its ferocity to survive.  In the meantime, I seek to embrace it and discover its role in my life.

If you have not yet seen the movie I hope I did not give too much of it away, but I highly recommend you watch it (or read the book).  May we all learn to see our tigers as the result of our difficult journeys and so live with mercy and compassion the way our Heavenly does.