Fr. Paul Sauerbier, one of the many “random” folks from whom I receive emails, is a Vincentian priest who has established the Prodigal Father Foundation.
His ministry is to reach out to priests imprisoned for the sexual abuse of minors—whom he calls “the modern-day lepers in our society.”
Read an interview with Fr. Sauerbier in the National Catholic Reporter HERE.
Not long ago he sent me a hard-to-find copy of a book by Caryll Houselander, one of my favorite spiritual writers.
And the other day I rec’d a photocopy of these stories which, being a walker myself, I felt moved, with his permission, to share.
I have lived in my humble half of this duplex for 15 years.
Without any knowledge or intellectual acumen, I happen to have chosen a spot that is one mile west of Home Depot and the Lockwood Branch of the Dallas Public Library and one mile east of the local Post Office, the local grocery store, my Compass Bank, and the Dollar Store.
That is my normal attire but without the cigar, and in wintertime long pants. I’ve come to realize that the hat and beard are almost like a uniform which is ironic since I have hardly ever worn clericals in the last 15 years.
1. So, recently when my intestines were bleeding a bit, scaring me whenever I
went to the john, I called my local gastroenterologist for an appointment
and walked the mile to get to his office. But I did not climb the stairs to his office on the 5th floor. I took the elevator.
In the elevator, some ole man got on behind me. After he punches the button for his floor,
he slowly turns to me and in his gravelly ole man’s voice, while pointing at me, says “You
walk faster than I drive!”.
I looked at him in amazement then laughed,
then something clicks in my head and
I said to him “Were you the guy in the red
car?” And he says “yea!” At that point we
both got off the elevator at the fifth floor.
2. A couple of years ago I was walking the mile east to the library to pick up some of the books on CD which I had requested so that I could listen to them in the car for my weekend drives, Friday AM to Sunday PM, for my visits.
I’m half way there when some ole man with a cane comes out of his house accompanied by two of his daughters and a few of his grandchildren. I wasn’t paying any attention to them and was almost past them when I hear this rickety voice belt out “I want that hat.” I turned and laughingly said “you’ll have to chase me for it.” Then he replied with “You’re a legend around here!”
the Post Office, a mile west of my
house, to buy some money orders.
middle aged man comes up, stands in front of
me and pointing at me with incredulity and amazement in his voice, says “You have a car!” Stunned, I looked at him and with mystification responded “Well ….. yeaaa”.
He says in explanation
the mile and half to St. Bernard’s
Church for the 11AM Mass, only
because it forces me to walk rather than drive the 3.3 miles to St. Patrick’s
where there is a celebration of the
Liturgy, verses “attending” Mass at St.
Bernard’s which is run by a somewhat
pre-Vatican II Argentinian religious
order which have the initials IVE.
with paper towels and re-comb it. My body
does cool down and by the middle of Mass,
in prayer for the Instituto del Verbo Encarnado
“Don’t cry for me Argentina, The truth is I never left you, All through my wild days, My mad existence, I kept my promise, Don’t keep your distance. I don‘t sound as good as Madonna who played Evita in the Movie but it warms me up by keeping my mind off how cold the AC is in Church!