Words cannot even begin to express their heartbreak and sadness.  Doctors have cautioned them that little Ben has only days left on this earth.  So while they are comforted that he will soon be in Heaven with Jesus, their hearts are crushed to know that they must   go forth without his smile, his laugh, his curiosity and his physical presence.  

If tears were prayers, I'd have an ocean of supplication on his behalf... on his mother's behalf... on his father's behalf.  No doubt the true can be said - moreso - for Andy and Mindy, Ben's loving parents.  

Please join your prayers with mine for this family.  

Blessed Mother, who understood this pain so acutely, please gather them under your mantle.  Soothe their hearts with a legion of angels and protect them from despair.  Send your Son to comfort them with His Mercy and Peace.  Amen.  

UPDATE:  Sweet little Ben has flown off with Jesus.  Please continue to keep this family wrapped tightly in prayer.  


As I told my friend, allow your tears to flow freely. It is a work of mercy to cry with your brother and sisters.  I truly believe that God gifted humanity empathy so we could share each other's grief.  One person cannot cry the tears that mourn a child lost.  Through our own empathy, however, we are able to share the grief and ease the burden on this heartbroken, grieving family.

Your tears are a gift.  Never be afraid or ashamed to gift them freely.  

{BIG HUGS} and a heartfelt "Thanks" to those of you who sent messages, e-mails and prayers on Friday.  It turned out to be a wonderful, beautiful day that was far removed from the fear and anxiety I had felt leading up to it.  

No doubt this was a result of your love and prayers.  Thank you!!!

Here are some of the items Vince and I brought to one of our local children's hospitals on Friday.

It was a very fun experience.

Vince had helped pick out the majority of these toys (which is why there are so many Ninja Turtle things for the boys).  The chair that has the stuff piled up is almost exclusively Ninja Turtles.  I kept pulling girly stuff into the basket so they wouldn't feel left out with all the stuff geared to boys!  What a joy it was putting this basket of goodies together, though... especially with Vince.  He understood that he was going to be giving these things to other children to "make them happy."  

After school, I picked him up we drove over to the hospital.  He was excitedly chatting about how he was going to share all "his toys."  It made me really happy that he was so excited about our little adventure.  That he willingly participated in charitable giving made me feel like I was doing something right as a parent.  God bless his little generous heart.  

When we got there, security had us wait in the lobby for a nurse to come for us.  While in the lobby, Vince had a field day hopping on and around the turtle statues in the waiting area.

Before we'd even gotten upstairs, Vincent began trying to share the toys with random children in the lobby.  One little boy, in particular, drew Vincent's attention.  His name was Antonio and he was 3 years old.  Antonio was there with his mother, and Vincent hurriedly ran up to him and said, "Hi!  I'm Vincent.  What is you name?"

(Eventually we'll get his parts of speech right...)

The little boy shied away behind his mother.  His mom smiled at Vince and said, "He's Antonio."

Then she gently pushed Antonio towards Vincent and said, "C'mon, Antonio, say 'Hi' to your new friend!"

Vince didn't wait to hear a "Hi."  He just started rambling off, "Hi Ann-toe-nee-o.  Do you want to share with my toys?  I give some to you!"

And without hesitating, he rummaged through our bags until he came upon a set of blocks. I stopped him from handing them off until I asked his mother if it would be alright.  

She looked confused so I said, "It's okay.  We're here today specifically to donate these toys.  Would it be okay if Vincent gave Antonio the blocks?"

His mom nodded her head and smiled down at Antonio.  She said, "Look, Antonio, blocks! You love blocks!  Thank your new friend."

Antonio was quite baffled that he was being given blocks.  He reached out happily for them, but wasn't sure if he should open them or not.  Vince made the decision for him and began to pull at the box.

I said, "Hold on, Vince.  You gotta ask his mom if that's OK."

Vince stopped and looked at Antonio's mom.  She shook her head yes, and Vince went to work opening the box.  He and Antonio played for about thirty seconds before Vince decided he wanted to give more toys to other kids.  

I was beginning to worry they'd be gone before the nurse came to collect us!

Luckily she arrived a few minutes later and we took our goodies upstairs.  I don't have any pictures of the joy behind those doors for obvious reasons (patient privacy being chief among them), but suffice to say the smiles and hugs and laughter will remain etched in my heart forever.  

I really think Vince gained so much from the experience, and I know the kids (and their families) enjoyed seeing him bounce around like a mini-Santa Claus.

We gave a different set of books / toys to another nurse so she could take them to the kids too sick for us to visit with, then it was time to go.

All in all, it was a fantastic experience.  It really was.  I highly recommend volunteering your time at a children's hospital if at all possible.  There is just SUCH joy there.  The children, though sick, have such joyful, loving hearts.  And they're SO appreciative of even tiny gestures like coloring books or matchbox cars.  What's more, their families instantly welcome you as part of their circle.  They, too, are so beyond gracious for the time you're willing to spend with them and their children - I was incredibly moved.  They are a special group of people.

Please keep them in your prayers this Lent.  <3

My husband's uncle, Bill Guarnere, passed away yesterday.  To the world, he was "Wild Bill Guarnere" of HBO's documentary Band of Brothers, but to my husband and our family, he was just "Uncle Billy."

Uncle Billy, even to his last, earned the moniker 'wild' for good reason.  I laugh when I think of it, because it seems like all the Guarnere men followed faithfully after him as a result.  His sense of humor, his disregard for "keeping up appearances" and simply telling it like it was, and his fierce love of family and loyalty to friends can all be seen - underscored - in the line of Guarnere men he inspired.

So given how much they all looked up to him and revered his status as patriarch of the family, it was a terrible blow to hear news he had passed suddenly on Saturday.

At the same time Uncle Billy was being rushed to the hospital, a good chunk of the Guarnere clan was already at the hospital tending to another one of our own... the one you won't hear news stories about or see documentaries on, but the one who, even from her hospital bed, unites the entire family in love and devotion.  Her name is Lena, and she is Uncle Billy's sister-in-law.  She's currently doing battle with pneumonia and could benefit from some prayers if you'd all be so kind.

Anyway, I bring Nan up for two reasons in reference to Uncle Billy.  Both showcase, in my mind, the type of love (and bit of humor) Uncle Billy always showed to his family.

On Friday morning, Uncle Mike, Nanny's son, called Uncle Billy to set a date to grab coffee.  Uncle Mike apologized for not being around, but Uncle Billy waved him off the phone and said, "Don't you worry about me.  Go take care of your mother.  She needs you right now."

Of course he'd say that.  Uncle Billy didn't care about himself.  He knew Nan needed Uncle Mike, so he sacrificed time with his nephew so he could be near her.  I'm sure if he were able, he'd've been at her bedside, too.  That's just how Uncle Billy is.

Which leads me to reason number two.

I spent five hours with Nanny on Saturday.  Several other family members were standing vigil as well.  Two times Nan brought up Uncle Billy, and here's where I imagine his sense of humor came in to play.

The first time, my Aunt Donna was leaning over Nan to see if she'd recognize her.  Nan affirmed she recognized her, but she insisted that her husband was between the two of them.  She asked, "Why is my husband here?"

Aunt Donna looked at me and asked if she'd heard her correctly.  I smiled and said, "Yup. She's asking about Pop Pop."

A few moments later, she asked again, but then she said, "Bill is in the way.  Get out of the way."

I looked at Aunt Donna, but she was talking to her sister.  Grandma Gloria, however, seemed to have heard her, and she smiled back at me and nodded.  I thought it was funny that Gram heard her (given how terrible her hearing is) but my two aunts did not.  I thought Nan might've been talking about a nurse or something.

About an hour or so later, I was in the room with Nanny, myself.  She'd finally nodded off, and I'd sent Uncle Mike and Uncle Frankie to eat dinner.  I used that time to pray at Nan's side, holding her hand.  I had just finished the Three Beautiful Prayers when she jolted awake.

I thought she might've been startled by the beeping across the hall.  She looked at me and I said, "Morning, Nan.  You feeling okay?"

She said, "Yeah.  I feel alright."

I asked, "Do you want me to grab you some lemon water?"

She said, "No.  Bill brought me up."

Again with this Bill person.  It never even occurred to me she could've been talking about Uncle Billy.  I thought she was confused, and I said, "No, Nanny.  You were sleeping.  Is your mouth dry?  Let me get some water."

As I spooned the lemon water into her mouth, she stared past me and asked an unseen person why he was still standing around.  She reached her hand out and said something along the lines of "Get on, already.  Go get my husband."

Again, my heart hurt because I feared Nanny was starting to see visitors from the other side of the veil.  I said, "Nanny, who are you talking to?  Who do you want to go get Pop Pop?"

She looked at me and said nothing.  She just leaned back in the bed and sighed.

A few hours later, we got news that Uncle Billy had passed.  I didn't put two and two together until I was on my way home from the hospital. I honestly think when his soul left his body, he stopped off to strengthen Nanny for her journey.  She, in reply, waved him off and sent him to reunite with her husband, his brother, to begin enjoying Heaven together.

So please, say a few prayers for the repose of Uncle Billy's soul and the strength of my Nan. Pray also for the broken hearts of my husband's family.  Uncle Billy was revered by them, and for good reason.  He was more than just a soldier - he was the force that bonded so many of them together.  His charisma commanded the attention of everyone, and his generosity and love commanded their respect.  

My heart is broken for them because I know how deeply this loss is felt.  And to experience losing Uncle Billy in the midst of watching Nanny deteriorate... it's just a terribly difficult road to walk right now.  So please, keep them all entrenched in prayer.  Pray for their comfort, their peace, and Divine strength.  They will need much of that in the coming days and weeks.  We all will.

My thanks.

Godspeed, Uncle Billy. God bless you and the family you leave behind.

I teach an 8th grade Confirmation class.  This class is comprised of students who typically don't attend Mass, go to public school, and have about as much interest in Catholicism as they do in Algebra.

However, I do everything I can to impart the Faith in an engaging, relatable manner.  

Prayer is one of those areas that never quite "took" for them.  It pains me that their communication with God is so infrequent that even a simple Our Father is said with no inflection.  Student-led prayers are lackluster and careless.  It kills me.  They are curious about tradition and history, but that is something they see as separate from a personal relationship with Christ.  It's as if they want to learn "facts" but don't understand that those facts exist only because of the living Presence of God still active within their lives.  Those facts are the small bits of "family history" we share as children of God.  

So imagine my surprise tonight when they all prayed.  Really, truly prayed.  With their hearts... not just with robotic recitation.  

You see, at the beginning of class (as I do every week), I asked for their intentions. They ranged for "help on a spelling test" to "my neighbor's cat is missing."  Great!  We added them to our intentions list.  

However, I then offered this intention:  

I told them about a little boy named Ben.  For those of you unaware, Ben Sauer is a beautiful 4 year old boy with a twin brother named Jack and a little sister named Megan.  Up until about a month ago, Ben was a seemingly healthy little boy who enjoyed playing with his siblings and was looking forward to preschool.

A few weeks ago, he was diagnosed with an incredibly rare and terribly aggressive form of cancer.  My heart is breaking even as I write this.  His parents were told that there is no form of treatment available, and their beautiful, happy, gentle son only has a few weeks to live.  

How do you process such a thing?  A vibrant little boy - your heart and soul - will likely be taken away to Heaven after only 4 brief years in your arms.

Oh dear Lord... mercy.  Please.  Mercy! 

As I relayed this intention to my students, they all sat - silent. There was no side-chatter, no doodling, no requests for the bathroom.  There was only silence and an aching plea for this intention to reach the Ears of God.

And so, with this intention fresh on their hearts, my class made the Sign of the Cross.  They said a Memorare with so much tenderness... so much pleading... that I actually stumbled over the words as I fought to contain my own emotions.  They followed their Memorares with the Prayer to Saint Michael.  This we offered through the intercession of Blessed Chiara Badano at the suggestion of a friend from Theotokos.  

As we closed with another Sign of the Cross, I looked out at my class and I thanked them. I knew hearing Ben's story made them feel terribly sad, but in joining their prayers for a miracle, his comfort, and the comfort of his family, I think they understood, for the first time, prayer can be a powerful weapon.  Sometimes, it is our only weapon, but that does not lessen its strength.  

We prayed again for this intention at the close of class.  Instead of chattering busily out the door after the bell, my class silently walked into the hall.  I really think they were still contemplating this very special intention.  I asked them to hold it in their hearts throughout Lent.  

Actually, I'd like to ask that all of you do so.  Please keep his family entrenched in prayers. Also, be sure to reach out to those you love.  None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow.  That is why we must always love in the moment.  Always.

<3

Quick heads up...

The blog community CatholicSistas has a Remembrance Day linkup.  Check it out and participate there!

I'm sharing this with all of my readers in the hopes that these wonderful Sisters and the work that they do is not only helped along through your generous donations, but also your prayers!

Please keep these beautiful women and the cherished families they help in your daily intentions.  We are blessed to count these brides of Christ among our own.


Dear Friends and Co-workers of Life,

'Emmanuel', God is with us. As we prepare to welcome the Christ child anew in our hearts this December, we are welcoming the new life around us in the women we serve. It is our desire that as they have courageously chosen life for their child, they may know the joy of Christ's presence and loving support, so often through the hearts of others. And that they may know truly, God is with us!

We are organizing our December 15, 2012 Christmas party for the women we serve and their children, and sending out some gift ideas for anyone who is interested. We have added websites for your convenience but you are certainly not limited to using them. Thank you always for your prayers and generosity!

Hi again!  Sorry I've taken such a long time to respond to folks lately.  I promise as I get myself more situated in my new job and schedule, I'll be back to e-mailing responses, updating entries, and posting new content soon. 

In the meantime, please keep a very special intention in your prayers.  Two, actually.

A little boy named Jack passed away very early this morning.  He was not yet four, but already had touched the lives of so many people.  He was born with a rare genetic disorder that stunted his development (but not his love).  His parents had recently moved him to hospice care.  They were awakened with news that he might not make it through the night.

By the time they arrived at the hospice, they found their son being cradled by the nurse who held him as his soul returned to Heaven. 

Please keep his family in your prayers.  Please, too, keep the nurses and staff who are in hospice care wrapped in prayer as well.  They must endure so many heartbreaks out of empathy for their patients' families.  Their job is not easy - but it is a blessed thing to be called to help usher souls through their final moments. 

So yes... please keep little Jack's parents in your prayers.  No doubt Jack is incredibly joyous, happy to be running, playing and completely enraptured in the beauty that Heaven offers to his saintly soul.  He left this earth with his guardian angel to intercede for his family before the Throne of God.  May they find peace in the hope of their eventual reunion.

For more information regarding Jack - and if you feel so inclined as to offer financial support to this worthy family - you can follow this link for more information.