One recent story I’d like to share … well, it’s actually not so recent. It happened before I was born. But my brother shared it with me a few months ago.
When he was a boy he used to pray the rosary. In the 50’s, there was a Catholic radio show (or station) that broadcast the rosary and he would pray it in his room.
Now, regular readers know my extended family is not Catholic. My parents were Protestants and Catholicism wasn’t even a shadow in our lives (or so I thought). My own conversion story is known to long-time readers here. But I was charmed that my elder brother also received a poke from God via Catholicism. Something must have stuck, because when he settled down in California with his wife Barbara, finding a Lutheran Church that had weekly Eucharist was essential.
When he retired to Iowa eight years ago, he left the Lutheran Church and joined the Episcopal parish. Because they had Sunday Communion, (and Oktoberfest, imaged above) and the Lutherans here did not.
For any number of reasons, there was no way my brother, a young teen with Protestant parents in the 1950’s was going to make a Catholic connection. And in my life and his, we didn’t quite make connections until much later. When I was a boy, he was serving in the Air Force out West. His kids were about the age of my younger sister and brother, so he was more of an uncle figure. He lived in California for two decades, and visits one way or the other were scarce.
But I was glad for the last several years when we connected far more often in Iowa. And sharing our respective sacramental faith.