I lost my mother unexpectedly last November, after having lost my father after a long illness eight years earlier. My siblings and I suddenly found ourselves “orphans” as we marked our first Thanksgiving and Christmas without either of our parents. Now we are anticipating our first Mother’s Day without mom. 

In her teens Sister Claudia Ongpin, OP vowed she would never become a religious and, most definitely never a Dominican sister. As her life unfolded, however, she realized God had other plans. 

It has been estimated that anywhere between 20 and 50 percent of inbound college freshmen have yet to declare their majors. Regardless of the number, far too many teenaged men and women are indecisive when thinking about the future. This is true in discernment, too. Indecisiveness and fear lead far too many young people into perpetual discernment, with the idea that the biggest questions in life will be answered “later.”

El desarrollo de el V (Quinto) Encuentro continua en la diócesis de Corpus Christi. Durante las ultimas semanas, el Padre Julián Cabrera tuvo juntas en varias partes de la diócesis con la intención de organizar equipos en el nivel de parroquias.

The Transitional Housing for Men, part of the Mother Teresa Shelter, offers more than a shelter. It provides the tools and resources that bring about independence and improved self-esteem. From there, it leads to self-sufficiency and a permanent place to call home.

The month of May directs our attention to our mothers, our natural mothers and to Mary, Mother of God and Mother of the Church. This article gives me the opportunity to reflect on my own mother and the gift that mothers are to their children.

Austin Frazier started making random things from everyday household items when he was in first grade. The 13-year-old seventh grader at Bishop Garriga Middle Preparatory School now focuses his creativity toward higher endeavors, like representing his school and the Diocese of Corpus Christi at a state competition.

It was late morning on the Sabbath in Jerusalem. The members of the St. Mary’s theology tour group were gathered under an awning looking toward the Wailing Wall. Father Charlie, our instructor, had just finished reminding us that we had the rest of day to sightsee on our own. Suddenly I was whisked around and I saw a burly, bearded man in a bowler hat and a white short-sleeved shirt. He was walking hand in hand with a small boy whose tiny sandals clicked, clicked on the payment. They were so close; I could hear the child say, “Abba, Abba” (Daddy in Hebrew). I was stopped short, there, ahead of me, was a modern day St. Joseph and the Child Jesus. Of course, this must have happened thanks to my guardian angel.