Rousing Rambling

  April 21, 2022 St. Anthony’s Shrine, Boston, MA      I have developed quite a love for St. Anthony’s Shrine in downtown Boston, MA as a place where I have experienced the merciful presence of Jesus on more than one occasion.  It is known to many as “the worker’s chapel.”  I first came to know them while working in the financial district as a place to attend Mass on holy days, but also as a place to seek mercy in the sacrament of reconciliation.      It was there several years ago that I confessed to a priest that I wasn’t honoring my father.  I told him that long periods of time could pass without me making an effort to reach out to my father and speak with him.  My penance was to pray for my father, and to begin to offer small acts of kindness toward my father.  As a result of that confession, I spent years making Monday nights my designated time to spend with my father.  It brought me...

  2 years ago Mariano J R Pimentel N o v e m b e r   7 ,   2 0 1 8    ·  Shared with Your friends When we were younger, the greatest gift that our parents gave to us was the gift of presence. Some of my favorite childhood memories include waterfront picnics with the Garcia families and Sundays at my grandmother’s house with the Pimentel Brum families. Simplicity. Just being with one another was enough to bring us all joy. Simply reflecting on those days still brings me joy today. Later in life, the same is true for what we can give to our aging parents. Monday nights are my “date nights with Papa.” Honestly, sometimes, after a long day at work, the 30-minute drive feels like a chore. Sitting with my dad and really listening to his stories (not just the hearing that I did for years) has given me so much insight into the times and events that shaped the person that my father is today. Learning about his childhood, leaving his country, starting a new l...

July 6, 2015 Rosa Parks Circle, Grand Rapids, Michigan 38 th Convention of the National Association of Pastoral Musicians Public Concert with the Cortez family   While sitting in Rosa Parks Circle, in Grand Rapids, MI, attending an outdoor concert by Jaime Cortez and family, I watched a homeless man take his place at my side with a tin container of spaghetti and another container of some other food.   Clearly, one or two of the hundreds of people in attendance at the outdoor event had given this man food to eat.   As he sat there eating the spaghetti with his hands, he seemed to be content.   He was clearly tapping his foot to the beautiful Catholic songs of the Cortez family, their Spanish rhythms and percussive beats evoking joy. Every once in a while, he’d break out into a little seated dance.   He seemed to be enjoying the spaghetti, as he pulled each handful to his mouth to eat.   I have to admit, shamefully, that I was a little grossed out wa...