TO ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX

My sweet Little Flower,   

your humble acts of charity   

are like tiny mustard seeds,    

yet when they’re poured out    

upon the fruitful fields of Heaven    

by the Father’s faithful fingers,    

they form a mountain of love    

that would gracefully tower    

over the mighty Everest;    

you stand in great strength,    

as the missionary of missionaries,    

in the gentle presence of    

the Virgin of virgins,    

the Mystical Rose    

of incomparable beauty,    

and your precious seeds of prayer    

are cultivated with care by the    

ever patient Divine Gardener,    

nourished by His living water,    

producing a bountiful harvest of    

salvation in our suffering world;    

above the clouds of worry,    

your cheerful sky is always blue --    

help me to follow your example    

so that my soul too may sing    

those heartfelt words of wisdom:    

“My vocation is love!”

THE SAINTLY COUPLE

Behold the Little Flower’s mom and dad,

They pray for parents about to go mad.

The Martin family had five sweet girls,

So their devout home was filled with French curls;

Louis and Zelie were full of great love,

They taught their daughters the path of The Dove;

With their “little queen” they had lots of fun,

And each of their girls became a young nun;

When Louis and Zelie finally died,

Heaven’s beautiful doors opened real wide.

So parents that want to pull out their hair

Should ask them for help, for they really care.

TO ST. BERNADETTE OF LOURDES

Your magnificent story I will tell:

The wondrous Miracle of Massabielle;

Our Lady came in breathtaking beauty,

And she knew that you would do your duty;

You came before her as God’s little child,

And looking down on you, she warmly smiled;

She gently asked you to dig in the ground,

And there spring waters were suddenly found;

Cripples bathed in the stream with salty tears,

And walked away whole without any fears;

Then hardened hearts started to melt,

And before the good God they humbly knelt.

TO ST. JOHN VIANNEY

As a soldier you were really quite inept,

  And as a student you weren’t much,

Although the seminary gave you a chance,

  It seemed holy orders you’d never touch;

But when the good God takes charge,

  There’s nothing that He cannot do,

So through the intercession of St. Philomena,

  Grace most bountifully fell on you.

Sent to a corrupt village named Ars,

  You woke it up with fiery preaching,

People were flabbergasted by your words

  And threatened by your priestly teaching;

Yet in the little box of the confessional,

  You won a victory over selfish hearts,

Though the devil anxiously pursued you,

   God extinguished all his flaming darts.

So many made pilgrimages to see you,

  And confession lines were terribly long,

But through God’s grace you read their souls,

  Bringing hope to many in the throng;

Thus the devil grew angrier and angrier,

  That’s why the beast ranted and raved,

Still you won over many many souls,

  In God’s mercy they were finally saved.

THE MIRACLE OF THE SUN

Like Rosary beads dipped in holy water,

  Raindrops are falling from the sky,

Seventy thousand people in the roaring rain

  Who would really rather be dry;

The valley of the Cova da Iria is a black

  Blanket of umbrellas and hats,

And the drenched, dripping crowd is like

  A muddy mob of very curious cats;

Three children kneel before an outdoor altar

  As they await the promised sign,

And non-believers mockingly joke that

  The children are just tipsy with wine;

The riotous rain finally stops at noon,

  As the weather is forced to succumb,

But noon passes, and Heaven is late,

  So perhaps no miracle will come.

But then a marvelous, mystical stillness and quiet

  Come over this blessed place,

All laughter subsides and totally vanishes,

  Without even the slightest trace;

Our Lady appears to all the three children,

  Wearing garments dazzlingly white,

Her shape is graceful and delicate,

  And her clothing is brighter than light;

Her eyes are like sparkling jewels,

  And her sweet voice makes their hearts sing,

Her face is most exquisitely beautiful,

  And she is a treasure of the great King;

But after hours and hours of waiting,

  The crowd sees nothing at all,

If a Heavenly sign they don’t get,

  Then perhaps the children they’ll maul.

After speaking to the three young children,

  Our Lady casts a glance up above,

She gently points upwards to Heaven,

  With a heart filled with mercy and love;

Then Lucia quickly points at the sky,

  And tells everyone to look at the sun,

They only see a thick cloudy darkness,

  So their expectations are little or none;

But through the clouds the sun is slicing,

  And it’s spinning like a circular saw,

At this very strange and unnatural sight,

  The crowd’s nerves really feel raw;

The sun is like a gyrating sparkler,

  With sizzling sparks flitting about,

It is held by God’s invisible hand,

  He is mighty -- of this there is no doubt.

Then the fickle sun changes colors,

  And the many spectators reflect its glow,

The chamelionic sun lights up sky and land,

  Putting on an impressive show;

First the sun turns a stunning silver,

  And this is followed by a brilliant blue,

Then it turns a glorious, gleaming gold,

  Followed by a most radiant red hue;

Every so often there are stellar explosions,

  With blinding bursts of light,

The people are starting to tremble,

  And are wondering if they should take flight;

They stare at the sun for a very long time,

  Yet none of them hurt their eyes,

The whole crowd gapes in surreal wonder,

  Observing this sign in the skies.

But suddenly unbolted from the wall of clouds,

  The sun moves about in the sky,

It looks like it’s riding on a roller coaster,

  On invisible tracks way up high;

The blazing orb dances in a fiery frenzy,

  Although there’s not a lot of wind,

And glacial hearts are melting below,

  Of those who have seriously sinned;

But now, like a menacing molten meteor,

  The sun falls down towards the Earth,

Thousands of people cry out in terror,

  Not experiencing any kind of mirth;

Alarmed atheists pray Our Fathers,

  As their hearts’ flag of surrender is unfurled,

And agnostics stagger and stumble for cover,

  Fearing it’s the end of the world.

Approaching at a frightful velocity,

  The sun gradually drinks the dark sky,

As the speeding star draws ever nearer,

  The people are preparing to die;

The red giant now fills the heavens,

  And the situation is exceedingly dire,

The surface of the sun is a seething solar ocean

  Of fantastical flaming fire;

But all this time the three good children

  Have visions from the Heavenly realm,

They experience ecstatic joy and peace,

  Since the good God is at the helm;

Then, in the twinkling of an eye,

  The crowd looks up through happy tears,

They’re stunned because their nightmarish vision

  Very suddenly disappears.

Just ten minutes earlier, the spectators in the

  Cova were standing in the mire,

But now, in a flash, it is completely dry --

  Faster than anyone could ever desire;

Ten miraculous minutes…

  Have forever softened many thousands of souls,

Their lives are totally transformed,

  And they no longer seek secular goals;

October 13, 1917…

  Will be remembered throughout all of history,

Though for skeptics who read of Fatima,

  This day may always be a mystery;

Many atheists and agnostics saw a miracle

  That made them turn quite pale,

So know that this story happened,

  And it is not some silly fairy tale.

TO OUR LADY OF LOURDES

Your merciful and majestic eyes

   are dazzlingly modest,

Sparkling like radiant jewels

   of kindness and compassion;

Your serene smile swiftly

   steals my humble heart,

As you point me towards the

   path that leads to Jesus;

Your majestic mantle and sky-blue

   sash dance joyfully in the breeze,

Reflecting the mildness and the

   gentleness of the good God;

Your ladylike lips whisper    

   words of wisdom

That split the air like

   loving lightning;

Your sweet, saintly actions

   ripple through the universe,

Like warm, welcoming waves

   of heavenly peace.

TO ST. JOHN XXIII

Some were very surprised you were

Elected by the College of Cardinals,

Still others thought you were not

Dignified enough for the papacy,

Yet Our Heavenly Father chose you.

With your happy smile and mild speech,

Who would have ever thought that

You had the courage and strength

To convene the Second Vatican Council,

Yet Jesus Christ knew you.

In your humility you were obedient,

And like the sweetest little lamb you

Trusted Our Good Shepherd

As He held you in His strong arms,

So the Holy Spirit used you.

TO SAN PADRE JUNIPERO SERRA

Why do some seek to erase

You from history’s chalkboard?

Why do they wish to cancel out

Your love for Native Americans?

In these deeply distressing times,

The Franciscan Way must lead:

Love must conquer all hatred,

Pardon must heal all injuries,

Faith must replace all doubt,

Hope must cast out all despair,

When Light scatters the darkness,

It is then that freedom rings.

THE OCEAN OF DIVINE MERCY

I hesitantly open the door

of the confessional and

to my utter surprise

I see a beach before me:

as I approach the waters

of gentle aquamarine,

my hot feet, crusty

and blackened with

guilt, are cleansed by

Jesus’ holy hands;

He leads me into the ocean,

whose welcoming waves

of delightful divine mercy

kiss and caress my soul,

cooling and refreshing me,

and peace and joy

rush through me, and

as love ripples and rhymes,

sweetening my soul,

I am born again.

TO ST. LOUIS DE MONTFORT

You are a man in love,    

oh so deeply in love    

with Our Lady,    

so with strength    

and with courage    

as a knight of Christ,    

you cavalierly show us    

the short way,    

the easy way,    

to the Queen of All Hearts;    

as we follow the illustrious example    

of St. John Paul the Great    

and mild St. Mother Teresa,    

you very confidently lead us        

to the Blessed Virgin        

so that she might    

graciously guide us to  

the Babe of Bethlehem;    

the jealous Jansenists,    

irked by your missionary success,        

perniciously plot against you,        

and you are banished --     

but the flames of divine love,        

like tongues of fire,        

sweetly sweep throughout France    

in the strong driving wind    

of the serene Spirit;

even now in the new millenium    

our lives continue to be    

refreshed and renewed    

by this burning blaze         

as we make our consecration        

to Jesus through Mary:     

totus tuus.

TO ST. FRANCIS DE SALES

Born in the breathtaking majesty of the Alps,

you became the Bishop of Geneva most brave;

You fought bloodless battles against the Calvinists,

and your gentle eloquence many souls did save.

Others preached with a barrel full of vinegar,

and for their listeners this wasn’t at all funny;

But you had the sense to sweeten your sermons

with the most delightful and delicious honey.

In your classic book you show us, the laity,

how to make our ordinary lives a success;

Teaching us to find God in the present moment,

our worried minds are relieved of great stress.

TO ST. FAUSTINA

You, the mystical    

missionary of mercy,        

are honored as        

the first saint        

of the Great Jubilee,        

the first saint        

of the new millennium;    

you serenely smile        

as the blessed blood        

and the blessed water        

kiss and mingle    

in the infinite ocean        

of Divine Mercy;    

you see the barque    

of St. Peter as it    

faithfully floats on     

the beautiful waves,        

protected from the    

storm winds of worry,    

free from all fear;    

like the warm welcoming    

arms of the Bernini Colonnade

at St. Peter’s Square,        

Divine Mercy is ready to    

earnestly embrace every    

hardened sinner who            

hungers for healing and    

thirsts for generous love:    

Jezu ufam Tobie!

TO ST. FRANCIS OF ASSISI

Your jolly, joyful eyes dreamily dance

  to the sublime, saintly symphony

Of the unimaginably beautiful creations

  of the Most High Lord God;

Your pious, prayerful persistence

  and earnest embrace transform the

Leprous lechery of our lives into

  the radiant Son-shine of lasting love;

Your voice, like a melodious and

  musical church bell, resonates and

Reverberates throughout the ages

  with the clarity and purity of truth;

Your simple, kindly actions speak

  louder than the sonic boom of the

Ghastly gossip and eloquently

  empty chatter of the world.

TO ST. PHILIP NERI

Your happy heart desired to go abroad,

  On a mission to the exotic Far East;

Where you might convert lots of souls,

  And become a holy Jesuit priest.

But as a merry man with natural goodness,

  You were drawn by God to Rome;

You had no money and you had no plan,

  Yet the Eternal City became your home.

With Socratic discussions on street corners,

  You most pleasantly evangelized;

Yet you did it in such a fun-loving way,

  That the people never felt chastised.

One Pentecost something special happened --

  You felt the peace of The Dove;

When a globe of fire entered your mouth,

  You almost died of ecstatic love.

You inspired many in the confessional,

  So that the truth they understood,

And the people always heard you saying,

  “When shall we begin to do good?”

TO ST. TERESA OF AVILA

As a strong spiritual mother,

You reliably and respectably

Reformed the Carmelite order,

And your holy friendship

With St. John of the Cross

Helped your soul spiral upwards

Towards the Heavenly Kingdom;

Then, you closed your eyes and

Your spirit penetrated into the heart

Of the Interior Castle of prayer,

And there, during the dark night,

You discovered the true Light.

TO ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS

A mystical priest, you are paradoxical:

Hated, you encountered Love,

Suffering, you experienced joy,

In trouble, you found peace,

Isolated, you surrendered in patience,

Maltreated, you felt kindness,

Kidnapped, you were generous,

Abandoned, you kept faith,

Abused, you replied with mildness,

Unknown, you became famous,

Imprisoned, you found freedom,

In the dark night, you discovered Light.

THE HOLY ROSE-LET OF THE HOURS

*The Holy Rose-let of the Hours is a beautiful intertwining of the Holy Rosary 

and the Divine Mercy Chaplet, and, like the Liturgy of the Hours, it is prayed

little by little throughout the day.

My life was a comedy of errors:

The more I tried to get ahead,

The more I fell behind,

The more I organized and planned,

The less time I seemed to have,

The more I raced to catch up,

The faster time sped ahead;

But when I pray simply,

And when I simply pray

The Holy Rose-let of the Hours,

I breathe in the fruit of the Spirit,

Living from bead to bead –

Slowly, gradually, meaningfully –

Meditating, contemplating,

Sometimes just plain battling,

Brandishing the Sword of the Spirit,

Like a brave knight of Christ,

Covered with the blood of Jesus,

Wounded for Our Lord of Love,

All day long Our Lady’s lasso

Is always close at hand,

Reining me in, not allowing me

To stray from her most merciful

And most compassionate Son,

Opening her hands and 

Letting the Light of the Spirit

Shine down on me, even in

The Dark Night of the Cross.

LOVE FOR LOVE

Dedicated to my Faithful Mother

You used to provide

For all my needs,

Planting in my soul

God’s holy seeds.

Now older, you need

God’s help from above,

Like you, I now sacrifice

And surrender in love.

A DAY OF DIVINE MERCY

“Beauty leads to Goodness; Goodness leads to Truth”

Today, September 19, 2022, 

On the feast of San Gennaro,

Two beautiful signs of God’s love

Took place in two different continents:

In the city of Napoli, the blood of 

The city’s patron saint once again

Mysteriously and miraculously liquefied, 

To the delight of many of the faithful;

And at St. Bernadette Catholic Church

In Scottsdale, Arizona, we celebrated 

My mother’s funeral mass — herself being,

We might say, “A daughter of San Gennaro,”

Since she studied in Napoli many years ago:

Truly, this was a day of Divine Mercy.

It was a calm and lovely morning

When my daughter and I

Arrived at St. Bernadette’s,

I had no idea what to expect,

One part of me feared that I would

Disrupt Mom’s funeral mass 

With my crying and sobbing,

But another part of me wondered

Whether I might go the whole mass

Without shedding a tear,

I hoped that I had conquered

My fickle and unpredictable emotions,

But, deep down, I knew that I had to 

Expect the unexpected.

We passed through the main entrance

Of this tremendously inspiring church --

I call it a “Baby Basilica” because,

In my mind, in many ways it resembles

The historic churches of Rome –

And I was delighted to be greeted

By several members of the funeral team

At the parish, who greeted us warmly,

And pleasantly arranged about 12 photographs 

Of my mom, which depicted her in some of the 

Happy moments of her past: her wedding day,

A cruise she and I took along the Pacific Coast,

And a treasured family vacation she took

With me and my precious daughter.

Then, we entered the nave of this magnificent church,

And we approached the stately communion rail

Where there were ten “waterfalls” of magnificent roses 

In a trinity of colors: pure playa-cream roses,

Brilliant red roses, and yellow roses that 

Appeared brighter than the sunshine;

We didn’t know quite how they would look,

Because when we chose them we pretty much

Had to use our imagination, and then 

Take a leap of faith, hoping that the colors

Would effectively complement each other.

My mom was very artistic in nature, 

So we knew that we wanted

Vivid beautiful colors to reflect the beauty

And joy of God’s wonderful creation;

Therefore, we chose white and red as a symbol

Of Jesus’ dazzling divine mercy,

But we also decided to mix in yellow

Since that is the color of the roses on the feet

Of Our Lady of Lourdes, when she appeared

To St. Bernadette Soubirous back in 1858;

By the grace of God, the colors blended 

Together splendidly, and they were 

Absolutely breathtaking.

It was about a half-hour before the start time

Of the mass, and one of our deacons gently

And humbly led us through prayer, and so

Together we began praying the 

Glorious mysteries of the Holy Rosary,

It was so pleasant and serene to pray

As a spiritual family, in one accord;

My former pastor was like St. Joseph

Sitting right behind me, and his strong confident

Voice emboldened me to “fight the good fight”

On what would be a very emotional day —

He probably had no idea what a powerful

Impact he made upon me during those

Very sweet moments of prayer.

Then we followed the Rosary with the

Simple yet majestic Divine Mercy Chaplet:

Again, I felt strengthened by these prayers,

And I believed I was ready for the mass —

In fact, my mindset was that of 

Psalm 57: “My heart is ready, O God,

My heart is ready!”

But when the casket was rolled back 

Towards the back of the church, 

Something unexpected stirred 

Deep down in my heart,

And as my daughter and I

Followed the casket,

I looked at it and felt a 

Profound sadness, for I knew

That my dear mother 

Was no longer there.

Suddenly, a powerful wave of 

Sadness pervaded my heart,

And I had to struggle

Like a knight in battle,

To hold back the tears,

It took all the strength 

I could muster to prevent myself

From crying aloud, 

But in spite of my best efforts,

I partially exhaled

A few sorrowful sobs.

In the back of the church,

I had the chance to regain

My composure, but the moment

The celebrant finished the opening prayers

And we reentered the nave of the church,

The cantor sang “The Prayer of Saint Francis” --

One of my mom’s favorite hymns,

And, again, powerful emotions

Threatened to overwhelm me.

But then it was as if I heard a voice

Deep within my soul that seemed to say,

“Look up! Don’t focus on where

Your mother used to be – look up!” 

And so I raised my head and looked up,

And there I beheld the breathtaking sacred art

On the inside of the cupola, where I saw Our Lady

In the glory of Heaven, surrounded

By many of our greatest saints,

And looking at them, my heart

Was greatly encouraged and 

Rejoiced in the Truth, and this scene 

Strengthened me in my emotional battle.

When we took our place in the front pew,

My heart somehow felt stronger --

In fact, my heart felt like it had become

Ten times stronger,

Like the Grinch’s heart

During his epiphany moment

On Christmas morning.

It seemed as if I only blinked twice,

And already it was time for the 

First reading, and I was the lector

Who was going to proclaim it;

It was a reading from chapter two of

The Book of Sirach, one of my favorite

Passages in the Old Testament,

Which focuses on the Lord’s

Indescribable compassion and mercy;

As I ascended the steps of the ambo,

The Holy Spirit simply took over,

I really don’t know how else

To describe it; in His divine mercy,

The good God gave me what

I so desperately needed:

The opportunity to share

Something beautiful with others,

Just as St. Francis of Assisi said

Towards the end of the opening hymn, 

“It is in giving that we receive.”

I returned to my seat empowered,

And after experiencing God’s grace,

The cantor, with her dulcet voice,

Sang Psalm 103, another of my favorites,

For it too speaks in a wondrous way

Of Jesus’ compassion and mercy;

I sang, and I sang loudly,

Glorifying God in my heart

For His goodness and mercy,

In celebrating this happy occasion.

And then it was time for me to go up

To the ambo once more to proclaim

The second reading, which is yet another

One of my favorites: Revelation 21,

In which Our Lord speaks of making us

A “new creation” in His divine love;

In my heart I was inspired by St. John

Who wrote this memorable text,

But, at the same time, I felt

Our Lady and Our Lord were

Very close to me in spirit,

I was very happy indeed,

And as I proclaimed the Word,

I felt the Holy Spirit’s joy —

It was like honey in my mouth.

Then came the Gospel text, 

My mom’s absolute favorite:

John 14 -- which reminds us of the 

Reality that Jesus wishes to prepare 

A magnificent place for us in Heaven;

The deacon spoke with great love, 

As if he were Jesus himself,

Filled with the fruit of the Spirit:

He proclamed the Word with

Love and joy and peace, 

Patience, kindness, generosity,

Faithfulness, gentleness, self-control;

And my heart rejoiced. 

The homily was something I had been

Really looking forward to,

And I was very pleased to hear

Such a faithful priest, such a wise priest,

Recognize so much goodness in my mom,

He spoke as if he had known her

All of his life, and his words of wisdom

Sank very deeply into my soul;

Listening to our pastor, I am reminded

Of the words of Pope St. John XXIII

Who once made the following comment

About St. John Vianney, who is known as

The patron saint of parish priests -- he said, 

“[The priest] is no longer supposed to live

For himself… He must be aflame with

Charity toward everyone. Not even his 

Thoughts, his will, his feelings belong to him,

For they are rather those of Jesus Christ,

Who is his life”; this is what I felt from

Our pastor, for as he spoke of my mom,

He did so with “a heart aflame with charity.”

Then as we transitioned from 

The Liturgy of the Word to the

Liturgy of the Eucharist, the cantor,

With her stunningly beautiful voice,

Sang an unforgettable version 

Of the Ave Maria of Franz Schubert,

One of the most sublime hymns

In the history of classical music,

Accompanied by the thunderous power

And elegance of the largest pipe organ

In the entire state of Arizona,

And played masterfully by

Our very talented organist;

I must say, that it was 

Nothing short of spectacular.

The time for Holy Communion

Was soon upon us -- I was so engulfed 

In the love and joy of the moment

That it felt like Jesus himself

Personally gave me the special gift of 

His Most precious body and blood –

This reminds me of a holy card from 

My daughter’s First Holy Communion,

Showing Jesus, holding a chalice,

Giving Holy Communion to a young girl

Dressed in white who is kneeling 

Before Him at the communion rail. 

For the recessional hymn, 

We sang “How Great Thou Art,”

And as my daughter and I followed 

The casket, I fixed my eyes on the 

Exquisite words of the “Litany of Loreto” 

That encircle the inside of the church

And are especially prominent in the back, 

Directly under the grand shining silver pipes 

Of the organ -- once again I felt encouragement, 

And I was filled with the strength that

I so needed at that particular moment.

Then we stepped outside into the

Golden sunshine, and the pallbearers 

Respectfully placed the casket into 

A Cadillac hearse, white and elegant —

But then our guests exited the church, 

One by one, and I was so profoundly 

Moved by the sincere and genuine 

Love of so many good people,

They made us feel more valuable

Than a sea of sparkling diamonds,

And words cannot possibly express

The love that I felt deep down inside,

For each and every person I met.

It’s such a wonderful thing that

Every little act of love,

Every little smile,

Every little kind word,

Can spark a chain reaction of

The the most profound

And the most sincere love:

For it is a truth about life that

Love begets more love.

Tears, joy, pain, laughter:

We experienced them all, and yet

The good God is never outdone

In generosity, for I can honestly

Say that this was one of the

Happiest days of my life;

I feel like we actually lived the 

“Prayer of Saint Francis” because

We experienced peace,

We experienced love,

We experienced faith,

We experienced hope,

We experienced light,

We experienced joy,

We experienced consolation,

We experienced understanding,

We experienced still more love,

We experienced pardon, and

We experienced eternal life.

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

THANKSGIVING

When we’re thanks-living,

We choose for living,

We choose for giving,

Lovingly for-giving.

Thanksgiving,

What a wonderful

Gift from God,

It seems to me like

An inexhaustible 

Spiritual ocean of the

Dazzling, magnificent

Divine Mercy.

When we’re living,

In thanksgiving to God,

We’re living for giving,

Lovingly for-giving.