In his autobiography, Morris West suggests that at a certain age our lives simplify and we need have only three phrases left in our spiritual vocabulary: Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! He is right, if we understand fully what is implied in living out gratitude. Gratitude is the ultimate virtue, undergirding everything else, even love. It is synonymous with holiness.
There are times when I wish setting things right in my life was as easy as restarting my computer. When my personal computer is running a bit slow, or won’t connect to the Internet, or just isn’t working the way it is supposed to work — and especially when it completely locks up — all we have to do is do a “re-boot” and most of the time everything gets reset and things are back to normal. If only resetting the spiritual life was as easy.
Her name was Catherine Fabiola Proudfoot, and I will never forget her.
It was a gentle knock, the tap-tap-tap of a squirrel crossing our roof, or the twinkly sound of a Christmas elf announcing the arrival of Santa.
Aunt Lena’s house was perfect, in a pop-culturish sort of way. She had a tri-level before most bi-levels had developed envy of the neighbors’ extra stairways.