As poetry editor for America, I had occasion recently to view the Rev. John P. McNamee’s new book of poems, Donegal Suite (Dufour Editions, Chester Springs, Pa.). Father McNamee has been an inner-city priest for over 30 years in Philadelphia. His memoir of his time at Saint Malachy parish, ent

On Friday evenings in the early 1950’s, after the dinner dishes had been washed, dried and put away, our family would be joined by our friends and neighbors, the Scaras, in front of our 12-inch Crosley console to watch a couple of hours of television. The first program of the evening, and my f

"July," said my sister, Carolyn. And I was amazed. "This year we got our first Christmas catalogue in the mail in July," she said. It was from Lands’ End. Even though Carolyn was driving the car and I was sitting next to her, I knew without looking that we were rolling our

When I was a grumpy teenager in high school, I retreated one Advent to the calm of our cellar and allowed only my sister to visit for help. We had a project. It had been years since we had set up the “Christmas platform”; but that year we had a new baby, something of such cosmic signific

Sometimes unexpected goodness just blows life open. It happened to me last year about six weeks after I was felled by a bad back. After I had declined an invitation from old friends for dinner because I couldn’t manage public transportation, they e-mailed back: “Come. We’ll send a

Sometimes after a rain-swept day the skies clear and a golden sunset promises better weather for tomorrow. And sometimes, as Jeremiah said, the Lord provides consolation after tears (Jer 31:8-9). Loyola Jesuit College, a coeducational secondary school in Abuja, the federal capital of Nigeria, has du