I look forward each year to retrieving our Christmas decorations from their hiding places and setting them out for all to see: our large gilded Nativity scene adorned with white lights displayed in our front dining room window, the needlepoint stockings with each family member’s name hung on the mantle, token items that have been part of our family tradition since our adult children were very young, to name just a few. These visible signs have meaning and capture the essence of the season in our home.

Autumn brings many splendors and delights with the brilliant color and light that play upon golden landscapes. What I enjoy the most, however, are the times when the wind catches the leaves as they fall and whisks them into a joyful frenzy, or rustles them from their resting place upon the ground. These moments capture my attention and stir my heart with amusement in much the same way.

One of the most anticipated moments in life for many is the birth of the first grandchild. This is something that we had hoped for, but we acknowledged that it would be according to God’s plan and his will.

My father-in-law, Robert J. Burger, passed away on March 15. During his funeral Mass, Dad’s cousin, Father Mark Burger, spoke of him as a “soul tender.”

Sitting in the balcony section of the surgery waiting area at Community North Hospital in Indianapolis, I recently settled into a chair to pray a rosary.