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O Sapientia
The octave of Christmas begins on December 17, which is also my daughter’s birthday. Above her Happy Birthday banner hangs another, which reads O Sapientia. O Wisdom. This is the first year that I have meditated on the ancient O Antiphons, recited during Vespers for the eight nights preceding Christmas. Each....
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Domestic Bliss and the Casual Observer
It’s 5:30 p.m. and I’m in my pajamas making stir-fry out of the decaying contents of my fridge while a miserably tired toddler clings to my leg and whines. I’ve suffered from inexplicable muscle cramping all day. I’m late with at least three freelance assignments. My husband is already an hour late and....
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Golden Rosaries and Sticky Faith
This is the first place I’ve ever lived that isn’t overwhelmingly Catholic. I grew up outside of New Orleans; I went to graduate school in Pittsburgh; I worked at Notre Dame after I got married—Catholic cultures all. But here, in rural Virginia, we are a minority. Outnumbered by the secular humanists on our college campus. Outnumbered by the evangelicals of nearby Lynchburg....
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The Agony and the Ecstasy, or Why I Cried on Election Day
The first time was during a Today Show piece about moving a young family into the White House: an image of the Obamas onstage at the convention last August, arms linked or maybe raised triumphantly, the voiceover describing how Sasha and Malia were excited about getting to redecorate their bedrooms. It was all very sweet....
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Current Issue
Issue 72
Memoir by Lauren Winner, Poetry by James Harpur, Art by Guy Chase and Adrian Wiszniewski
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