Perils of a Catholic upbringing

Bag ladyAs  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.

Thanks Gene


5 thoughts on “Perils of a Catholic upbringing

  1. I wasn’t raised catholic, but I too, feel a sense of wanting to reach out and touch this person in the accompanying picture.


    • Many are the cynics, and I confess myself to be one, who doubt Man and the Human Condition, certain we are that all are selfish and depraved. Your fresh and welcome testimony, Brother Jeff, melts my heart and renews my soul, filling my very being with a rekindled flame of Spirituality, and engendering that Great Hope that we all share Kindred Kindness and an Inborn Desire to share each other’s burdens and a tendency to write in run-on sentences!


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