Editorial

G etting to know people who are persecuted for their religious faith is lifechanging. To meet people whose everyday life involves the real possibility that they might be kidnapped, tortured or killed simply because they are Christian, Yazidi or Uyghur Muslim gives you a whole new perspective.

O ne of my fondest childhood memories of Christmas in the 1970’s was riding around in the family station wagon, “Bessie,” to look at Christmas lights while I whined to my parents about needing a snack – again. There was something magical about a familiar evening landscape transformed to a radiant wonderland at the expense of someone’s lumbar spine.

A sk the millions of migrants who have either entered the United States or are lined up at the border what motivated their journeys, and all will answer that they’re in pursuit of the proverbial better life.

W ith a thundering voice, Bill Holt, a Dominican priest in Manhattan, preaches frequently about the “thunder of silence.” Father Holt isn’t just any Catholic priest — he’s one who went viral during COVID. A video of him was posted, unbeknownst to him, of him smoking on the St. Vincent Ferrer priory steps. There he was, being himself, quite relatable, and yet with something clearly more. Something deeper; magnetic. People responded.

W hen writing advertising copy, I sometimes find myself desperately searching for a zinger of a tag line — and settling for trite admonitions such as “Make this the best hunting season ever” or “Make this the best summer vacation ever.”

 Claudia is a truck driver in Georgia. She is running transportation logistics on a movie being filmed here. The movie, “Possum Trot,” is a true story about the foster care and adoption of Black children who suffered unspeakable trauma in their young lives. Claudia knows that experience all too well. At one point, sharing her story on the set, she said she remembers being so skinny from malnutrition that “I could feel my bones. It’s a real thing.