Hope in the Resurrection

 “We proclaim the resurrection of Christ when his light illuminates the dark moments of our existence, and we are able to share it with others.” Pope Francis 

A man went to work in Calcutta with Mother Teresa. He was looking for clarity about what to do with the rest of his life. When he met Mother Teresa, he asked her to pray for him. “What would you like me to pray for?” she asked him. He told her that he was looking for clarity, and she replied that she could not pray for that. He did not understand, and he told her that she always seemed to have the kind of clarity that he was looking for. She laughed and said: “I have zero percent clarity.” He was dumbfounded. “How can that be?” he asked her. She answered him that she had zero percent clarity but she had one hundred percent trust. “I will pray that you trust God,” she said. 

I am the type of person that doesn’t like to live in the dark. I like to have clarity in my life. I need to know what I’m doing tomorrow, next week and even next year. Or at least, I used to be that way. The pandemic and other unexpected events in my life have taught me that I have zero control of my life. I can plan all I want to, and then God just laughs and messes up my plans. Therefore, what’s the point? I just have to trust Him and let Him lead the way.

This year, I made zero plans for Lent. I prayed to Him: “Show me what You want me to do.” I placed my trust in Him and He brought me to daily mass. I had never been able to accomplish that and walk at the same time. It was either walk in the morning or go to mass. There was no time for both. But with His help, and waking up quite early, I was able to attend daily mass during Lent. And what a blessing it has been. Starting the day with Him, receiving the Eucharist and then going to work, has taken away all the stress that tax season usually brings to my life.

Now that Lent is almost over, I’m placing all my hope in the Resurrection. I hope that I can share with others, the light that I have received during these forty days of Lent. And I hope that I can continue attending daily mass. But I’m not making any plans. I hope that He will lead the way and show me what He wants me to do next. And I hope that like Mother Teresa, I have one hundred percent trust in Him. 

St. Teresa of Calcutta, pray for us.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Finding Hope in Art and Music

“I believe in angels, something good in everything I see…” Abba

God works in funny ways. I had been thinking about what to write next regarding this year’s theme about hope, and I couldn’t come up with anything. What did He do? He sent me on a mission which ended up with me sitting down with a nun talking about finding hope in art and music. God never ceases to surprise me.

It turns out that there is a small convent just a few blocks from my office. This convent is run by the Claretian Missionary Sisters. I went there this week simply to pick up some tickets for a dinner. Little did I know that what I thought would take just a few seconds turned into a beautiful thirty-minute visit with Sister Carmen, one of the nuns who lives there. I would have stayed all morning talking to her. It was that wonderful. 

When I got there, she asked me to sit down while she went to retrieve the tickets. She then sat with me and first, she took me on a trip through Spain. Listening to her was like traveling to the beaches of Asturias, Galicia and ending in Barcelona. We then talked about the Ukrainian children that are staying in the different convents around Europe. And then, our conversation took a turn towards art and music. She’s in charge of the catechesis classes at Corpus Christi Catholic Church. She told me about the magnificent museum that Father Jose Luis Menendez has put together over there with art from all over the world. And then, she said these words: “Art and music gives us hope, and it helps us to evangelize.” I got goosebumps. 

I had never thought of art this way, but she’s so right. When I stood in front of the Annunciation fresco in the Monastery of San Marco in Florence, I was transported to the moment when the angel appeared to Mary.

I am a visual person so I am moved more by pictures than by listening to a long sermon. Her words made a lot of sense. Art helps us to evangelize others and therefore, we can be evangelized with art. 

It’s the same with music. In our Emmaus retreats, we always end our talks with a song. Years later, I have encountered an Emmaus sister who may not remember what was said word by word, but she remembers the songs that were played. That is the reason why at some point, we started giving out a CD with all the music that was played during the retreat. All I have to do is listen to the music to be transported back to that retreat. 

I had figured out what she meant by evangelization with art and music, but how can I find hope in art and music? As if she had heard my thoughts, Sister Carmen responded: “There’s such little hope in the world today that by bringing art and music to the people we bring them hope.” She went on to explain that she gave a talk about hope to the parents of her Confirmation students. At the end of her talk, she played the song “I Have a Dream” by Abba. Some parents were so moved that they began to cry. Afterwards, they thanked her for giving them hope.

We ended our conversation by her telling me: “What’s the point of living if we don’t have hope?”

As soon as I got to my office, I told Alexa to play the song. As I listened to the words, my eyes also got watery: 

“I Have a Dream, a song to sing, to help me cope, with anything. If you see the wonder, of a fairy tale, you can take the future, even if you fail. I believe in angels, something good in everything I see…”

https://youtu.be/TFWlNmwQgzI

Do you believe in angels? I hope you do. And if you don’t, I hope you find them through art and music. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Let the Scaffolds Fall but Continue Reinforcing Your Walls

“We may let the scaffolds fall, confident that we have built our wall.” Seamus Heaney

This week, my daughter Chabeli and her boyfriend Daniel got engaged. The moment was totally unplanned. No picnic by the beach or plane flying overhead with a banner that said “Will you marry me?” No restaurant with violins playing or a beautiful background of mountains. As a matter of fact, the engagement took place on a busy New York street with scaffolding as its backdrop.

It reminded me of another impromptu engagement, almost 40 years ago, on the 836 expressway. We were on our way home from the beach on July 4th, 1982. My birthday is on July 5th and Rafael wanted to give me my gift when the clock struck midnight. We were rushing to get home, but didn’t quite make it. So he pulled to the shoulder, got out of the car, went to the trunk, and grabbed a huge box covered in birthday gift wrap. The box was heavy so the last thing I expected was a ring. I opened it only to find a pair of old and smelly tennis shoes, and lots of teared up newspapers. “What in the world?” I thought to myself. But in the midst of that mess, was a little box with a ring inside. I’m still waiting for him to get on one knee and actually propose, a little difficult to do in the middle of a busy expressway, but here we still are about to celebrate our 38th wedding anniversary in three months.

When my daughter sent me the video, which luckily was taken by a pedestrian who stopped to witness the proposal, and I saw the scaffolding on the background, I was reminded of a reading at Emily and Rafi’s wedding:

“Masons, when they start upon a building, are careful to test out the scaffolding; Make sure that planks won't slip at busy points, secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints. And yet all this comes down when the job's done showing off walls of sure and solid stone. So if, my dear, there sometimes seems to be old bridges breaking between you and me never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall, confident that we have built our wall.” Seamus Heaney

Chabeli and Daniel, you have been building the walls of your relationship for almost eight years. It is now time to let the scaffolds fall. They don’t need to stay in your relationship forever, like the permanent scaffolding in New York. When you started your relationship, like the masons, you had to test each other out to make sure that you fit well together. You had to adjust your bolts and planks so you could be sure that what you felt for each other was real, and it wouldn’t come down with the first storm. Your relationship is now on solid ground, but never let your guard down because the strongest walls collapse if they are not well cared for. Therefore, continue to strengthen your walls with romantic gestures, spontaneous dates and words that build up and reinforce what you have built together. The old scaffolds will fall but the strong walls will remain forever.

I am so happy for both of you. It was truly a magical moment which couldn’t have surprised Chabeli more. The last thing on her mind when she walked out of that bagel shop was that Daniel would be waiting for her and would propose right then and there. But those unplanned proposals lead to something wonderful. Just look at dad and I… no picnic by the beach or plane flying overhead with a banner that said “Will you marry me?” There were lots of planes flying overhead because we were by the Miami airport, but to me, it was the most magical moment as I know it was for my Chabeli. So congratulations and I hope that 40 years from now, you will be sharing your magical proposal with your own children.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Hope, Courage and Trust

“The angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home. For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her. She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.’ When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.” Matthew 1:20-21,24

Today we celebrate the feast of St. Joseph, the spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary and foster father of Jesus. We don’t know much about him. He is only mentioned three times in the Scriptures and he doesn’t say a single word. And yet, from the little that is said, we know that he was full of hope, trust and courage.

Joseph had hopes and dreams before his life came crashing down. Imagine being engaged to be married, your fiancée tells you that she’s pregnant, and you know that the baby is not yours. If I had said that to Rafael before we got married, he would have walked away. No way he would have taken on someone else’s responsibility. And his hopes and dreams for our future together would have come crashing down. That is exactly what happened to Joseph. He had all these plans for a happy life with Mary, dreams of the children they would have together, and hopes for a future filled with love, when Mary drops the bomb: “Joseph, I’m pregnant.” In three words, his dreams were shattered and his hopes destroyed. And yet, in spite of his huge disappointment, he was a noble man. He loved Mary so much that he decided to walk away quietly. He could have chosen to publicly dishonor her, which would have resulted in her being stoned to death. But he didn’t want that for her, even if he thought at the time that she had broken her promise to him.

After he decides to break the engagement, the story gets better. He goes to sleep and an angel appears to him. However, as opposed to Mary who had an angel visit her while she was fully awake, this angel appears to Joseph in a dream. I’m pretty sure that if this had happened to Rafael, he still would not have married me. But Joseph trusted God so much that he believed that the dream was real. And he took Mary as his wife, pregnant with a child that was not his own. What a lesson in trust and humility we can all learn from Joseph.

The second time that Joseph is mentioned in the scriptures is when he had to go to Bethlehem for the census. Most likely, he could have gone by himself and leave Mary with friends and family in Nazareth. But he was a responsible man, and he knew that this child that Mary was carrying was no ordinary child. Thus, he takes Mary with him on a long journey, through the desert, just so that he could take care of her and the baby. Little did he know that they would not return to Nazareth anytime soon. After the baby is born, once again an angel appears to him in a dream and tells him to take Mary and the child and go to Egypt. Not only did he have to trust God, but it shows his courage. He didn’t know what they would find in Egypt. Certainly no home or family to welcome them. In Egypt, they were refugees. I can’t help but remember when I arrived in Spain with my parents and we had to go to “una pension.” It was a cheap hostel where all we had was a room with two beds, and we had to share a kitchen and bathroom with a lot of strangers. 

Even though Joseph lived a life of adversity with unexpected twists and turns, he always trusted God. He never failed God in all the responsibilities that God entrusted him. He always stepped up to the plate. He had confidence that God was with him every step of the way, and because he trusted and was courageous, his hopes and dreams for his future turned out to be even better than he could have possibly imagined. He had the privilege of holding in his arms the salvation of the world. And when his mission here on earth was finished, he died in the arms of Jesus and Mary. And all because he trusted and said YES to God.

St. Joseph, pray for us.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

La Lección de Madre Juliana

 ”Que lo profundo sea lo que siempre celebremos”. Madre Juliana

Madre Juliana fue mi maestra de cuarto grado en La Inmaculada Concepción, la escuela a la que asistí mientras vivía en Madrid. Tenía veintitantos años, recién ordenada, y todos la amábamos. Era inteligente, divertida, estricta, pero de una manera cariñosa, y me enseñó una lección que nunca olvidaré.

En España, teníamos que ir a la escuela de 9 a 5 con un descanso de 2 horas para almorzar. La mayoría de los niños solían ir a casa a almorzar, pero mis mejores amigas, Tere, Dulce y yo, solíamos quedarnos en la escuela a almorzar. Tardábamos unos 30 minutos en comer y luego teníamos 90 minutos para jugar.

Un día en particular, Dulce y yo le preguntamos a Madre Juliana si necesitaba ayuda en el aula. No recuerdo qué nos pidió que hiciéramos, pero sí recuerdo haber encontrado el examen que tendríamos al día siguiente encima de su escritorio. Dulce y yo nos miramos y no lo pensamos dos veces. Corrimos a nuestros escritorios, agarramos papel y lápiz y nos apresuramos a copiar las respuestas. Esta prueba eran preguntas y respuestas escritas. Esa noche, memorizamos todas las respuestas. Al día siguiente, cuando M. Juliana entregó las pruebas, Dulce y yo nos miramos y sonreímos. Ibamos a pasar la prueba con sobresaliente. 

Normalmente, M. Juliana recogía las pruebas, las calificaba durante la noche y nos las devolvía al día siguiente. No esta vez. Decidió que nos calificaríamos las pruebas mutuamente. Dulce y yo nos miramos. Sabíamos que algo andaba mal, especialmente cuando M. Juliana decidió calificar mi prueba.

Toda la clase reprobó la prueba excepto Dulce y yo. M. Juliana nos miró y dijo frente a toda la clase: “Parece que Dulce y Cristina son las únicas que estudiaron para esta prueba”. Queríamos que el suelo se abriera y nos tragara. Estábamos profundamente avergonzados, pero confesamos.

Nunca le pregunté a M. Juliana cómo lo sabía, pero supongo que probablemente regresó al salón de clases y vio a Dulce y a mí en su escritorio copiando las respuestas. Podría habernos sorprendido con las manos en la masa, pero fue muy sabia y supo que la lección sería más impactante si nos confrontaba frente a toda la clase.

Salí de España al terminar el quinto grado pero nunca olvidé a M. Juliana. La volví a ver en 2014. Era la superiora de todos los colegios de las concepcionistas en España. Mi esposo, el muy simpático, le recordó mi fechoría de cuarto grado. Ella la había olvidado por completo, y ambas, junto con Dulce que también estaba presente, nos reímos mucho.

En 2012, la fundadora de la orden de las madres concepcionistas, Madre Carmen Salles, fue canonizada por el Papa Benedicto XVI. M. Juliana asistió a la canonización. Cuando la vi en 2014, me dio un rosario, un libro y algunas medallas que había traído. No tengo ninguna duda de que M. Juliana está ahora en el cielo con Santa Carmen Salles. Su vida aquí en la tierra terminó, pero su vida celestial apenas comienza.

M. Juliana tenía puesta sus esperanzas en que cada una de sus alumnas nos convirtiésemos en las mujeres que Dios nos creó para ser, y siempre nos empujó a alcanzar las estrellas. Ella ayudó a fortalecer y edificar mi fe. Y jamás volví a hacer trampa en un examen.

Que en paz descanses, Madre Juliana, y espero que nos volvamos a encontrar en el cielo.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. Todos los derechos reservados.

Madre Juliana’s Lesson

“May the profound be what we always celebrate.” Madre Juliana

I normally don’t write two meditations on the same day, but just as I was finishing one, I found out that one of my favorite teachers passed away. I was compelled to write about her. 

Madre Juliana was my fourth grade teacher at Immaculate Conception, the school I attended while I lived in Madrid. She was in her twenties, newly ordained, and we all loved her. She was smart, funny, strict, but in a loving kind of way, and she taught me a lesson that I will never forget. 

In Spain, we had to go to school from 9 to 5 with a 2-hour break for lunch. Most kids used to go home for lunch but my best friends Tere, Dulce and I used to stay in the school for lunch. It would take us about 30 minutes to eat and then we had 90 minutes to play. 

On one particular day, Dulce and I asked Madre Juliana if she needed help with anything. I don’t remember what she asked us to do but I do remember finding the exam that we were having the following day on top of her desk. Dulce and I looked at each other and we didn’t think about it twice. We ran to our desks, grabbed paper and pencil, and rushed to copy the responses. This test was not multiple choice, it was questions and short written answers. That night, we memorized all the responses. The next day, when M. Juliana gave out the tests, Dulce and I looked at each other and we smiled. We were going to Ace the test.

Normally, M. Juliana would collect the tests, grade them overnight, and return them to us the following day. Not this time. She decided that we would grade each other’s tests. Dulce and I looked at each other. We knew something was amiss, especially when M. Juliana decided to grade my test. 

The entire class failed the test except Dulce and me. M. Juliana looked at us and said in front of the whole class: “It looks like Dulce and Cristina are the only ones that study for this test.” We wanted the floor to open up and swallow us. We were deeply embarrassed, but we confessed.

I never asked M. Juliana how she knew, but I guess she probably returned to the classroom and saw Dulce and I on her desk copying the responses. She could have caught us red handed but she was very wise and knew the lesson would be more impacting if she confronted us in front of the whole class. 

I left Spain at the end of the fifth grade but I never forgot M. Juliana. I saw her again in 2014. She was the superior of all the schools in Spain. My husband, nice as he is, reminded her of my 4th grade misdeed. She had completely forgotten, and we both had a good laugh.

In 2012, the founder of the order, Madre Carmen Salles, was canonized by Pope Benedict XVI. M. Juliana attended the canonization. When I saw her in 2014, she gave me a rosary, a book, and a few medals that she had brought back. I have no doubt that M. Juliana is now in heaven with St. Carmen Salles. Her journey here on earth ended, but her heavenly journey is just beginning. 

M. Juliana had hope in each of her students that we would become the women that God created us to be, and she always pushed us to reach for the stars. She helped to strengthen and build up my faith. And yes, I never ever cheated again on a test. 

May you Rest In Peace Madre Juliana, and I hope we meet again in heaven.

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Do the Storms Ever Stop?

“The greater your storm, the brighter your rainbow.” – Anonymous

I recently watched the second season of Sweet Magnolias, a Netflix series. It’s about three southern women that grew up together in a small town called Serenity. The town is anything but serene. There is always some drama going on. On one of the episodes, Helen, the town attorney, asks her friend Maddie, “Do the storms ever stop?”

That question stayed with me. “Do the storms ever stop?” And the answer is “No, the storms never stop.” Do you know anyone that has such a perfect life that has never gone through a storm? I’m sure the answer is no. Even my four-month-old grandson has already gone through a few storms of his own. If he could talk he would tell you about his three vaccinations on his chubby little legs when he turned two and four months. His crying told his mom and dad that he was not happy experiencing that storm. Three shots at once? Poor little baby boy. Abi was not happy either. 

The bottom line is that here on earth, the storms will never stop. But our attitude towards them can make a huge difference on how we navigate them. Just recently, my son Alex and his girlfriend Keely were caught in a pretty serious storm. After a week of headaches and a few misdiagnosis, a CT scan revealed that Keely had a large blood clot on her brain. As scary as the situation was, we did not lose hope. We turned to God, the Greatest Physician, and we prayed for Keely’s blood clot to dissolve, for Alex to stay strong for her in the midst of the storm and for Keely not to lose hope. I also asked all my prayer warriors to pray. I have no doubt that being showered with all these prayers is what kept them calm and hopeful through the storm. And even though it is not over, I have no doubt that the Great Physician continues to work on dissolving that blood clot. 

Jesus is the source of my strength and hope during every storm that I’ve had to navigate in my life. He has always jumped inside my boat and He has helped me to remain steadfast in my faith and has not allowed my hope to diminish. Even when I have found myself in a situation that seemed hopeless at first, He has not allowed me to succumb to despair. He has always been my guide through the storm, my light in the darkness and my hope in the midst of hopelessness. 

Yes, the storms never stop, but as Maddie responded to Helen in “Sweet Magnolias,” neither do the rainbows. So if you find yourself in the midst of a storm right now, don’t lose hope in the good things to come because after every storm there is always a rainbow, no matter how long it takes to show up. 

Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.