It is a Sunday morning in 1992, and I am 10 years old and visiting relatives in the midwest. We head to church, pile into a pew, sit, stand and then sing the entrance hymn at Mass. I happen to look up from my missalette just as two girls who are about my age walk up the aisle; they are wea

For our family, adoption has come to mean much more than what we thought it did on that Sunday afternoon.

I watch for it every Easter vigil, and every Easter vigil it happens—this Easter vigil right in front of me where I sat in the second row of the chapel expressly to see it; and once again I nearly burst into tears, because it is so beautiful and subtle and gentle and heartrending and amazing,

For a long time, my experience as a public defender supported my belief that some people deserved life sentences. One client chilled me to the core. As a juvenile, he had graduated from burglary and auto theft to armed robbery, holding up three separate victims in the course of two days. The first v

These days, when I light a candle at the base of the makeshift shrine in my sitting room, I feel at peace. I haven’t always felt this way. A year and a half ago, I would have been sitting down in a room of similar size but crowded with food wrappers and neglected dirty laundry. I probably woul

Despite various attempts over the centuries to give her a personal story, there is no evidence that she was a historical figure. She has never been included in any official list of Catholic saints; and although she is commemorated on July 12 in the Orthodox churches, there has never been a universal