09-14-2008, 07:35 AM
Perils of a Catholic Upbringing
As I walked down the busy street, knowing I was late for Mass, my eye fell upon one of those unfortunate, homeless tramps that are found everywhere these days.
Some people turned to stare. Others quickly looked away as if the sight would somehow contaminate them.
Recalling my old priest, Father Mike, 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 every worldly possession 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, 'Reach out, reach out and touch this person!'
>
>
>
>
So I did.......
________________________________________________________________
What's the point in arguing or trying to make sense of something that is lost?
What's the point in arguing or trying to make sense of something that is lost?
