Religion

When I spoke with one of my daughters about the treat in store for me, she got a case of the giggles. I told her that my friend Rita, who is a registered nurse, asked if I’d like to join her and her daughter plus another pal in viewing “The Help.” She felt that it would be a great venture to offset my increasing cabin fever. My daughter’s comment had me laughing. She said, “Isn’t that your first name these days, Help?”

When I was a young girl, my family spent the entire summer at the beach, a marvelous Italian enclave on the Connecticut shoreline. I have wonderful memories of sun-drenched fun and scores of visiting friends, otherwise known as the children of vacationers. 

Every time I go to a funeral and hear the Gospel proclamation, “In my house there are many mansions,” I am both relieved and uplifted. Being cognizant of my own multiple failings and the variety of individuals who have come to church to pay their respects to the family of the deceased, it feels good to hear that God has prepared a place for us. 

Stuff the Bus at Generations