A Tribute to Three Saints and a Venerable
My spirit rejoices in God, my savior;
He had the divine sense of humor;
If I did not become upset, there would be joy in this;
I will serve God cheerfully,
Be cheerful, always cheerful,
One needs to have smiling faces around,
Live a happy life, full of joy!
Today you laugh and sing and carry your smile,
Optimism? Yes, always! Break into song with a Gloria,
Happiness is a consequence of self-surrender.
I’m just a little bichon frise on top of the
Jungfrau, and I feel like I’m super special;
I’m now the highest dog in all of Europe,
And my heart is strutting, filled with pride.
But I really can’t take any credit for it at all,
Because my Master carried me up all the way;
I’m like a fluffy little lamb, and the only reason
I’m special is because He makes me feel special.
Christmas is a time
with bright little toys,
St. Nick rewards good
little girls and boys;
A time for Scrooges
to help those in need,
Baby Jesus came,
and now we are freed;
It’s a jolly season
blessed by The Dove,
The manger is filled
with His Divine Love.
Dedicated to my father
Me and Dad were at
Knott’s Berry Farm and
he couldn’t wait to share
his favorite attractions with me;
the torch of his enthusiasm
burned even hotter
than the fiery ashes
of his cigarettes;
but I was like a wet match,
soaking wet,
and Dad had no chance,
no chance at all --
my whole world was
Disneyland;
hot words of anger
gathered in his mouth
like fierce storm winds,
but then he hesitated,
thought pensively for a moment,
and, finally, swallowed them;
with a smile of selfless surrender,
he took my hand in his own
and, together, we walked
towards the parking lot.
As the stunning jewel of our solar system,
the planet Saturn reigns in regal splendor,
Ringed by its exquisite, elegant crown,
its yellow-gold complexion is unparalleled;
Angels casually coast around the rainbow rings
as Saturn swiftly spins in glee,
Twirling atop God’s invisible index finger, this
planet humbly reflects the beauty of the good God.
Nino the Donkey squeezes
out every penny in sales,
His smooth, slippery power of
persuasion never ever fails,
He legally pickpockets without
getting thrown into jails.
Nino needs to learn how to
sincerely serve each client,
He should give people a break
and with pricing be more pliant,
He must make others’ lives
easier and not be defiant.
Nino is a newscaster who’s
always in hot pursuit of fame,
He aims at human targets
to drop his bombs of blame,
Then he justifies himself saying
it’s just a part of the game.
Vin Scully could certainly
teach him a thing or two,
Nino should stay away
from bombastic gossipy goo,
He should calmly and simply
tell the facts that are true.
Nino goes to mass perhaps every month or two,
Since he’s so very busy, his prayers are quite few,
But he says he’s a good Catholic if you ask his view.
Nino needs to sincerely seek so that he may find,
He needs more time with the Lord, away from the grind,
Otherwise, the more he runs, the more he’ll fall behind.
Nino stews in envy as if he were in a
cauldron of bubbling black oil,
When someone else gets praised,
it really makes his blood boil,
If he isn’t recognized as special,
It makes him radically recoil.
The loving Lord needs to gently pop
Nino’s egotistical balloon,
Or this donkey will be despised,
as a proud, puffed-up buffoon,
But when glad at others’ blessings,
his soul plays a beautiful tune.
When Nino gets angry, he blows his top,
He wants control, but without it he’ll pop,
His selfish attitude must come to a stop.
Patience will help him win in the clutch,
Broadening his boundaries to not need so much,
The Holy Spirit he must reach out to touch.
Nino the Donkey thought
he was much better than all,
His diamond-studded saddle
made him feel rather tall,
His pride did nothing but fill him
with the most bitter gall.
Nino should focus so much
more on his good deeds,
Instead of wearing the most
fashionable fancy tweeds,
He would be better off thinking
about other people’s needs.
Everyone runs here and there calling for Merri,
They all need her help for their work at the dairy,
With so many interruptions, she has no time to tarry.
But Merri’s sincere surrender is gentle and sweet,
She turns her life over to Jesus and doesn’t miss a beat,
Living in the present moment, she washes the Lord’s feet.
“I just don’t get
Why Catholics
Even bother with
Talking to the saints:
I always speak directly
To Jesus when I pray.”
“But, my dear friend,
Although He doesn’t
Need to go through others,
It delights Him to do so:
We saints know better than
Anyone that we are merely
Ambassadors of Christ --
Yes, Jesus is truly the
Great God of Generosity,
But, even more, He is
The Great Lord of Humility.
Not seventy times,
But seventy-seven,
And even though
I blew right by
That number
Many years ago,
You still show me
Your forgiveness,
Over and over, and
Over and over again --
But why? Why are you so
Magnificently merciful?
Because you, Lord God,
Are Divine Mercy itself,
And your holy rays of
Red and white burn
Through the darkness,
Deep into my soul,
Gently caressing it with
Tenderness and Love.
I’m nothing more than
a hole in the ground,
and nobody notices me,
and I’m okay with that.
But when I receive the
Body of Christ, an invisible
spring of living water leaps
up out of my peaceful soul.
These crystal clear waters
of pure love surge upwards,
with unbounded freedom and joy,
praising the King of Heaven.
Gentle St. Mother Teresa
Said that Jesus came to her
In the distressing disguise
Of the poorest of the poor,
And, of course, she was right;
However, is it possible that
Jesus also comes to us
in the distressing disguise
Of the inconvenient,
Of the unexpected,
Of the cross?
This equation is like a golden key,
That will certainly set our spirits free;
Prayer prepares the soul for God’s holy gifts,
While surrender cleanses and also sifts;
These open the door to true heartfelt love,
Which only comes from the good God above;
When love is tested in the deep dark night,
In the morn it shines as mercy so bright.
Inspired by the writings of Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
“Is life worth living?”
You wonder out loud;
For much of the time,
You’re lost in a crowd.
Life is worth living,
The bishop was right;
We find our mission,
And walk in the Light.
I am weary,
my eyes bleary;
I drag around,
without a sound;
I have no home,
so off I roam;
I beg for food,
my shoes are glued;
on the mend,
I seek a friend.
Worldly
anxiety
chokes
all joy,
and
strangles
all peace.