Love

Relating to Worldly Concerns

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

It’s the second week of Advent and I’m feeling the pressure to be more holy (or holy at all, in my case). So, I’m lighting my Advent wreath and reflecting on how to celebrate our Savior’s birth. How do I put aside my anxiety regarding the political rancor in our country? How do I deal with the grief of losing my best friend, fear for a dear friend who is battling a painful recovery from surgery and concern for a toddler from our parish who is facing serious health issues? Do I just put on my “Happy Christmas Face” and suck it up? I fear l that my celebration of Christmas this year might feel ingenuine.

Most importantly, can I love God and love our modern (sometimes tacky) celebration of Christmas, too? Must they be mutually exclusive? Merriam-Webster defines the word secular as: Relating to worldly concerns; not overtly or specifically religious. That doesn’t sound so menacing to me. And yet I’m constantly hearing about the evils of the secular world in which we live. It seems that I am bombarded with warnings about being consumed by our secular society. On the first Sunday of Advent, we were admonished for placing gift-giving, holiday decorating, and Santa Claus before Christ. Somehow those things are equated with secularism and by association deemed contrary to what Christmas should really be about.

Often, I think that we get so caught up in protecting our traditions we forget that some of our most sacred Christian celebrations – Easter and Christmas were placed on the calendar to take advantage of earlier non-Christian feasts. People were already partying at the spring and winter equinoxes so why not just slip Christ’s resurrection and birth into those time slots? Did we in fact Christianize earlier pagan feasts? I don’t know – maybe. But who cares? Is Christ’s birth and life on Earth less significant if he wasn’t actually born on December 25th? Is His resurrection any less meaningful because of when we celebrate?

Living in the world today, spending too much money on silly Christmas presents and decorating a tree doesn’t define our belief in Christ any more than the likelihood that we celebrate His birth on what was once a pagan feast day. In addition, pretending that everything is perfect seems foolish because no one I know has a Hallmark® Christmas where everyone falls in love and the snow falls on cue. Most of us are dealing with some hurt or fear or uncertainty. But here’s the thing, we can lay that hurt and those fears at the foot of the Cross.

I know that “Jesus is the reason for the season” but as a Christian I believe that He’s also the reason there’s a world to live in. Sometimes it’s messy and confusing. I won’t pretend that everything is okay, but I have time for tears and laughter, too. Knowing that Jesus walked among us in this world, I will relate to it the best that I can.

It just so happens that some of his creation likes a little tinsel, eggnog and “Jingle Bells” blasting from their iPhones. I suspect that God is not offended but merely amused when I’m “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” or when we finally finish decorating our 4th Christmas Tree (that’s right, four!). And for the record, in our house, we all sing “O Come O Come Emmanuel” at the dinner table after lighting our Advent wreath, too. Somehow it works because love is at the center of it all.

The Lord is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.  2 Peter 3:9

Peace,

Denis

Falling Leaves

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

I don’t love autumn. I’m not a fan of cold weather. Watching leaves falling and flowers dying makes me melancholy. This is the time of year that we are supposed to be thankful. So, bring on the turkey and pass the pumpkin pie. I will force a smile and at least pretend to be thankful. I will try to look for the positive. Fall colors are beautiful. The ‘gravy season’ brings comfort foods that fill my body and my soul. My favorite sweater wraps me in warmth and familiarity and hides the extra pounds.

I also find Autumn a good time to reminisce. This time of year, as things slow down and as I slow down, it seems appropriate reflect on life. I will pull out old photographs, dust off memories and embrace them. I will use this time to let go of hurt. I will offer and accept forgiveness. I will bask in the joy of love’s presence in my life and honor the lives of those I have loved and lost.

Mom left this earth five years ago, but she’s still with me each day. I see her in my sister and my daughter and my granddaughters. I hear her in their voices. I feel her in their touch. Love is never truly lost. I’m not sure if it’s genetics or learned behaviors but Mom’s love carries on in these next generations.

This week my cousin and I visited our 94-year-old aunt. She is my mom’s younger sister. They were just fifteen months apart in age. Growing up on a farm together during the Great Depression, the twelfth and thirteen children in their family, they shared everything and remained close all their lives. My aunt actually married my dad’s best friend, and our families became intertwined. Sisters who were inseparable and best buddies who carried one another home from World War II sounds like a movie plot, but it was true. They were America’s greatest generation.

My aunt is the lone survivor of that generation in our family. Time with her is precious. She is our only link to the past. Spending time with her is bittersweet. I am so grateful to still have her in my life, but I feel the ache of my loss more acutely when I see Mom’s mannerisms and hear Mom’s voice in her words. When I am able to set aside my selfishness, I pray that my aunt is comforted by my presence. I hope she hears my dad’s voice and sees my mom’s actions in me. I pray that her own grief is lessened in some way by my visit.

Each flutter of breeze brings another cascade of leaves falling just outside my window. It’s as if they are waving goodbye. And I suppose they are. But they are also promising to return again next spring as green buds and leaves that will sprout again.

Because love is never truly lost.

Peace,

Denis

God causes the changes of the times and seasons. He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to those who understand. Daniel 2:21

Peace Be With You (and also with me?)

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

In a Catholic mass we offer the “Sign of Peace” to one another. It’s typically a polite and friendly gesture of greeting which often includes shaking hands. The celebrant says to the congregation “Peace be with you” and then everyone responds, “and also with you.” We are then invited to offer peace to one another. Then we turn to our fellow congregants and say, “Peace” or “Peace be with you”. Not an insignificant gesture but it sometimes feels rote or worse, awkward if the person next to appears to be nonreceptive.

Often, I feel conflicted when offering peace. There is currently so much angst in my heart and head that peacefulness seems unattainable and offering it to others seems insincere. The moral, economic and political divisions in our country today are greater than any other time in my adult life. So many in our nation are victims of xenophobia, racism, sexism, antisemitism, and homophobia. The recent hurricanes and natural disasters only add to the suffering of millions. It’s hard to not fall into despair. Why is there so much that is so wrong? Why are so many people embracing hatred and vitriol? And why are some politicians ratchetting up the hate and fear? Where are the better angels of our nature that Abraham Lincoln spoke of so eloquently?

How can I, a flawed, sinful and desperate man, offer peace? This isn’t easy, but I believe that I must begin with me. To “reconcile” means to rebuild; reconnect; to be at peace. To embrace my suffering and try to understand the suffering of others, I’ll have to try to be more loving; more caring; more respectful; and less judgmental. I’ll have to shut my mouth and open my ears and more importantly my heart. And offer myself some peace before I can extend it to others.

In her book, “Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair”, Anne Lamott writes: “My understanding of Incarnation is that we are not served by getting away from the grubbiness of suffering. Sometimes we feel that we are barely pulling ourselves forward through a tight tunnel on badly scraped-up elbows. But we do come out the other side, exhausted and changed. To heal, it seems we have to stand in the middle of the horror, at the foot of the cross, and wait out another’s suffering where that person can see us.“

This is my challenge: To make the “The Sign of Peace” more than just some friendly, smiling, handshaking, muttering of peace-be-with-you. I will ask God with each encounter to lift me out of my despair; to embrace me with love and kindness toward others. And to bring peace, if only briefly, to each soul that I encounter.

Peace,

Denis

My Everything

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Please indulge me as a I send a birthday greeting to my beautiful wife today.

Deb, we’ve been together since we were teenagers and most days, you still make me feel like that young man that was captivated by your beauty and charm and spirit all those many years ago. Of course, then I glance in the mirror, and I am reminded that more than 50 years have passed since the day that I fell head over heels.

We’ve had a lifetime together and I am one lucky man. We’ve shared some amazing adventures together. We’ve traveled the world, lived on two continents, survived several career changes, raised three incredible children, and been blessed with five beautiful grandchildren. We’ve had grand celebrations where we have been surrounded by countless friends and loved ones. But the quiet times, when it’s just you and me, are what I cherish most. The knowing look. The shared laugh. The gentle touch. The simple prayer.

Through it all, you have been my rock, my refuge, my home, my heart, my everything.

Somehow God decided that I was the one who got to share this life with you. Through the good and bad; through the joys and sorrows; I’ve had your beautiful hand to hold. And I’ll never let go.

Today when you’re blowing out your birthday candles and making your wish, know that my wish came true the day we met.

Love,

Denis

I created this video several years ago, but like our love it’s timeless…

Put a Woman in Charge

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

I’ve been blessed to have some extraordinary women in my life, not the least of which is my best friend and soul mate, Debbie. We’ve shared equally in good times and bad. Carrying one another or being carried by the other as needed. Our life together has proven time and time again that she is my equal. She is simply unafraid. She is love and pure joy, but she is also tough and resilient and relentless when necessary. She has taught me that tears don’t make you weak and laughter is truly the best medicine (especially when you need to laugh at yourself). And she has instilled the same spirit and strength and humor in our daughter.

Bess, our beautiful and gracious daughter, has also inherited her mother’s gift of charity. She wants everyone to be happy (and cared for, and well fed, and loved, etc.). She always gives of herself, and she rarely expects anything in return. Her cheerfulness is contagious, and she makes others happy by just being around her.

We have four beautiful granddaughters. They each have so much to offer. I already see their potential and I am able to see into the future because of them, and it will be equal and fair.

Of course, I’ve known and loved many other strong women. In fact, I believe that in my family the female role models are the ones that stand out as the true leaders.

My Mom ran the show at her house. She knew more about politics, current events, and style than most women of her generation. For someone who was not afforded an education she was smarter than most other women and Dad certainly knew not to mess with Mom. She was not large, but she was in charge. Even on her deathbed she was calling the shots. She took care of us until the end, making us laugh to ease our grief at her passing.

My Mom’s sisters, my three aunts, Lucida, Noel and Gene Marie, were Sisters of the Most Precious Blood. These were intelligent women who were well-traveled and well-educated, not something offered to most women born in the 1910’s and 1920’s. They were teachers, administrators, catechists, authors, and persons of authority. They were our family’s “Blessed Trinity”.

The stories of my great-grandmother Elizabeth are legendary: Coming to this country alone as a teenager from Germany. Marrying and then raising her young family alone after my great-grandfather died. I’m told that she was tough, stubborn and a force to be reckoned with. And my great-great-grandmother Mary converted the entire family to Catholicism back when women had no say in such matters.

My three great aunts Marie, Minnie, and Liddy lived together in the family home that became the base of operations for all Wilhelm family gatherings. Aunt Minnie was a businesswoman – the County Nurse’s secretary. And she was well-respected in our hometown. I remember walking downtown with her many times and people would greet her very politely as “Miss Wilhelm”. I was always so proud to be with my Aunt Min!

And then of course there was my mother-in-law. She was a tough lady who fought for justice and looked out for the underdogs in our world. She was fiercely loyal to those she loved, and she protected her children like a lioness. She taught her daughter that real beauty requires confidence, kindness and a sense of humor. Jackie never went down without a fight. I’m not sure if you can “raise hell” in heaven, but if you can I’m sure she’s leading the charge.

When I reflect on my spirituality, I realize that it was my mother who first taught me how to pray. It was her model of faith that I continue to follow to this day. It was my Godmother’s hand that I held when I received Jesus at my First Holy Communion. It was my three Aunts who modeled compassion for those in need and service to God through service to others as Precious Blood Sisters. It is my wife who models patience, love and social awareness. It is my daughter who teaches me to show kindness to children by her example as a Catholic Educator. And it is my granddaughters who model unconditional love by even loving me, a cranky, opinionated, old guy. These women and girls proclaim The Good News to me each day. Author Joelle Chase wrote, “Mary knew her strength, the miracle of her body that would knit Life out of God’s seed.” That’s a powerful statement and it runs counter to the image of a helpless, hapless, teenage Mary who is poor, afraid, pregnant, unwed and uncertain. Mary said yes. Not because the angel told her that she should, but because she knew her own strength, her potential and her power.

Let’s embrace the power of women. Let’s “man up” and put a woman in charge.

Peace,

Denis

The Truth, The Whole Truth (and nothing but the truth?)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

They say honesty is the best policy. I don’t know who “they” are and I’m not always so sure about that honesty policy. Too many times the statement “to tell you the truth…” followed by some unsettling pronouncement has caused pain in my life. Or I hear, “honestly, …” and I mentally glaze over and those little flaps inside my ears slowly close, because I don’t want to receive any honesty at that moment. Sometimes the news has been medical in nature. Sometimes it has been work-related. The worst honesty is the relationship kind. When your loved one tells you that your jokes aren’t funny, but your outfit is. That’s hurtful.

Often it is someone sharing their political or religious “truths”. I have been surprised by some folks need to “educate me” on their particular point of view. This is usually unsolicited. Rarely have I asked for someone to tell me how to vote or what to boycott or where to worship. Still, the desire to influence, recruit, or evangelize is a powerful force in some people’s lives. I had a dear uncle who once said to me, “You’re entitled to your opinion no matter how wrong it is”. That statement was poignant, unsettling, and hilarious all at the same time. I’ve used it many times since.

We humans have an innate desire to share our joy, our sorrow, and our wisdom. This is a good thing. Everyone has a story to tell; a song to sing. Where we veer into trouble is when we believe that our story is the only true story. I’m guilty of this. One of my best friends once said to me, “I just look like this” while I was attempting to instill some wisdom. I was stunned. Her point: you are treating me as if I am ill-informed. You are making assumptions about me because of my sex, race, and age. She was right and that truth hurt. Once again, like my uncle’s statement, I have used hers many times since. It’s can be a showstopper.

Someone recently suggested that I say, “that has not been my experience”, when confronted by someone who holds an opinion opposite of mine. It’s much more tactful than what my brain is usually trying to get my mouth to say. Because “you’re stupid and wrong” might be truthful but it rarely resolves any conflict. In our current political climate, I’m constantly being challenged by statements made at sporting events, social gatherings, family dinners, organizational meetings and from the pulpit.

I am often at odds with people I love and respect. I try to tell them, “That has not been my experience”, or “I just look like this”, but it doesn’t register with the truth-teller. And then with prayer and a little self-examination, I finally look in the mirror and honestly ask myself, how often have I been the dispenser of truths? How often have I been the one who doesn’t listen but needs to share my story? How often have I told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but my truth?

I’m a Partner in Mission (a lay member) with the Sisters of The Most Precious Blood. Our charism is reconciliation. Those are fancy words which mean we are trying to bring peace to our world, to our communities, to our homes and to our hearts. It’s true that sometimes truth hurts. Every husband dreads the fateful question, “Does this dress make me look fat?” No easy answers there. Sometimes truth makes us squirm. Sometimes truth makes us fearful. But sometimes truth can set us free.

Perhaps telling the truth wouldn’t be so hard if I could remember to tell it with sensitivity, compassion and understanding. And to accept it from others even when it hurts.

Peace,

Denis

Judging

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

Often, I think others are being judgmental. I look down on the “judgers”. How dare they make assumptions about me and those whom I love! Who are they to judge? They don’t know my circumstances or beliefs. They don’t know my history. They don’t understand what I find intolerable or what I hold dear. They make their assumptions because of my sex, my age, my race, my marital status, my nationality, my neighborhood, my faith. And it is tiring to constantly have to explain myself. Believe what you will judgers! You haven’t walked my path.

Then I judge. In my heart I know that I do. I judge people by their appearance, their age, the kind of car they drive, the neighborhood they live in, the way they speak and on and on. The very thing that bothers me about others is something that I am constantly doing myself.

It is so easy to think that others are being judgmental without ever looking in the mirror. In our polarized society, it is understandable to embrace an “us versus them” mentality. But it’s wrong. I know that. My heart and my head tell me it’s sinful and shameful to judge others, but I do it anyway. Almost instinctively, I find myself sizing folks up. Do they look like me? Do they speak intelligently? Do they conduct themselves in a manner that I find acceptable? Do they share my beliefs, my goals, my perception of what life should be?

I have a dear friend who once said to me, “I just look like this”. It was a simple and profound statement that declared to the world that she need not fit into anyone else’s expectation of who or what she should be. I love her for that and so much more. And I have used her statement myself. The challenge is to remember that everyone I meet “just looks like this”. I sometimes (okay, almost always) judge the folks on those electric carts in the supermarket and discount stores. Are they really disabled? Or just too big to carry themselves comfortably? Do they abuse the privilege because it’s just easier to cruise through the big box store rather than trek the miles down each aisle on foot? It is shameful, judgmental and ignorant of me. But there I stand judging.

I judge folks when I see them flying flags upside down. I judge people by the bumper stickers on their cars. I judge my neighbors by the way the keep their lawns and gardens. I judge others who declare themselves Pro-Life and Pro-Guns. I judge others who appear too pious. I judge others who seem blasphemous. I judge others who seem slovenly. I judge others who seem to be obsessed with their appearance. I’m kind of an all-purpose judger. And when I point that finger there are four more pointed back at me!

Currently I am experiencing an impinged nerve. And it’s painful. So, I’m limping and moaning and have had to accept much help from others, which I don’t like to do. My wife has been very patient while dealing with my impatience. My son-in-law, one of my heroes, helped get me to a much-needed doctor’s appointment. I probably received some stares from the neighbors as I stumbled around my yard looking inebriated. I’ve likely received some looks of pity or disgust from strangers seeing this old dude walking stiff legged and unsteady. If this pain does anything for me, I hope that it is a reminder that I am too quick to judge others. I know that it is wrong. I realize that it separates me from others for no reason other than my own pride.

Who am I to judge when the One who is judge of all keeps forgiving me? I hope and I pray for empathy. I ask God to help me be more loving and accepting of others. And I ask for forgiveness when I judge again tomorrow.

Peace,

Denis

“Stop judging, that you may not be judged. For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” Matthew 7:1-2

Cicadas and Other Tormentors

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

After much media hype and many warnings, the cicadas have emerged. The decibel level in our yard is horrific. They produce noise over 100 decibels at close range, or about as loud as a rock concert or car racing event. According to researchers at Johns Hopkins, the cicada’s high-pitched buzzing could worsen my tinnitus. And so, it seems, it has. Now I’m a prisoner indoors, but it’s impossible to completely avoid the buggers. I have to mow my lawn and water the flower beds and outdoors is my favorite place to be.

I’m told that they will die off or descend into their underground lairs soon. Maybe in another month or so. But I’m afraid the ringing in my ears will remain long after the tiny monsters return underground. The times that I’ve carried one or two into the house only to have them screech while I squeal before they meet their untimely deaths has certainly damaged my psyche. And knowing that they are lurking beneath our lawn is the stuff of horror movies. Cicada nightmares continue!

My wife has wondered aloud if cicadas were one of the plagues mentioned in Scripture. And what did primitive peoples think of them? Were they horrified or mystified? We will never know.

While the cicadas are currently making my life a hell on earth, I can’t help but think of the other tormentors in our society today. Racists, sexists, xenophobes, and megalomaniacal politicians in our nation persist. We have a convicted felon running for president and we’re somehow expected to normalize this. When will honorable statemen and stateswomen stand up for justice and decency? When will the screeching stop?

This is Pride Month and I pray for my adult granddaughter and other young LGBTQ+ young people. I pray for acceptance. I pray for a Church that is inclusive. I pray for understanding. I pray for a heart that is loving. I pray for a spirit that is forgiving.

As with the cicadas, I sometimes want to just put my earplugs firmly in place and wait until the screeching ends. But it doesn’t seem to be subsiding. So, we must be louder than the screechers. We must drown out discrimination with understanding. We must drown out intolerance with acceptance. We must drown out injustice with love.

And maybe, just maybe, the screeching will end…

Peace,

Denis

Not What I Expected

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

When I was a kid, I imagined my life differently. While playing with my ‘Kenner Girder and Panel Building Set’®, I fully expected to become an architect. Dropping out of college did not enhance my dream. I never designed nor built any amazing architectural wonders, but I did work in the building trades and learned on-the-job more than I would have likely learned from textbooks. My careers both in Civil Engineering and Architectural Millwork gave me countless opportunities to work with many talented engineers, architects, and designers. And I usually could hold my own with those who possessed much better degrees and pedigrees. Here I was, just a small-town kid from the Midwest who had once played with building blocks making decisions on million-dollar projects. Of course, along the way I had jobs in retail, worked in factories, delivered catalogs, and any number of other jobs just to keep our heads above water. Those jobs taught me humility and patience, but the ‘Kenner Girder and Panel Building Set’® gave me the desire to build some stuff. And given the chance I did.

In the 1960s I loved James Bond movies and ‘The Man from Uncle’ television series. I often imagined someday being an international man of mystery. I had never traveled outside of the Midwest, but I knew given the chance that I could handle a jet-set lifestyle and move easily from one country to another. Years later I was fortunate enough to live and work abroad. It was international and many days were a mystery mainly because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I wasn’t as dashing as 007 but I witnessed things beyond my comprehension, mastered things I didn’t know I was capable of learning, and I am richer for the experience. My work associates often carried me through, and we remain friends to this day.

Parenthood was always part of my plan. I assumed I would be a dad like the ones I saw on T.V. as a kid. Kind of a cross between Ward Clever, Steven Douglas, and Ozzie Nelson. You know, one of those dads who came home from work (although no one ever really knew what he did), put his feet up, and read the newspaper, waited for dinner, and then solved any problems the kids had. I would wrap everything up neatly in 30 minutes. The reality of parenthood has been much more challenging and rewarding. I changed diapers, gave baths, read bedtime stories and said prayers. Later it was helping with homework, scouting, sporting events and the praying continued especially when teaching teenagers how to drive. Sleepless nights worrying about finances were accompanied by weary days of teenage angst and more prayer. As time marched on so did parenthood. There were graduations, college, military service, marriages and grandchildren. So much to worry about. So much to do. So much to celebrate. Ward Clever never seemed as exhausted as I sometimes felt, but I doubt he ever felt the joy and pride that I have thanked God for each day.

Marriage. I remember those movies where the hero would win the girl. He usually would sweep her off her feet. They might start out as adversaries or at least disinterested parties. Sometimes they couldn’t stand each other until some pivotal moment when they magically “fell in love”. It was often a surprise to both of them. How romantic! And I did fall in love, but not in the magical “I hate you but now I love you” movie way. More in the “I like everything about you” way, but mostly in the “I like me better when I’m with you” way. Our marriage is one of two nearly complete opposites who somehow make each other better every day. I never imagined marriage to be like this. I’m all “hurry-hurry let’s get this done” and she’s all “let’s slow down and smell the flowers.” I’m tall. She’s small. I’m impatient. She’s patient (even after all these years). Through the years we have learned that differences are not detrimental to a successful relationship. In fact, just the opposite. My wife and I complement one another. We fill in each other’s voids. We carry one another when necessary. We pray together. And the yoke is easy, and burden is light.

God has blessed me. My life is not what I had expected. It is more; so much more. Filled with adventure and tedium. Filled will joy and sorrow. Filled with certainty and doubt. Filled with achievement and disappointment. Filled with big moments and quiet times. Filled with friends and loneliness. Filled with laughter and tears. But always, always filled with unexpected love.

Peace,

Denis

Anna’s Star Shines

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

I would like to tell you that my granddaughter is growing up too fast but that wouldn’t be true. She’s growing up as she should. I’m the one struggling to keep up. It seems like just yesterday Anna was born, but in reality, it was nearly 16 years ago that she arrived and changed my world forever.

I’m an easy mark because her three-year-old cousin Charlise had already captured me, body and soul, so I wasn’t sure how Anna was going to fit into my life. But there she was all wrinkly and pink and wet with tears (and other stuff). She carved a spot in my heart that only she can fill. And she still fills it every time I see her face or hear her voice. I am madly, deeply in love with this beautiful creature, who when I first took her tiny hand in mine, completely wrapped me around her little finger.

I’ve had the honor of standing on the sidelines or watching from the audience as she fills the room or field or gym or theater with her style, grace and charm. I’ve shared quiet moments enthralled with her ability to capture and embrace the subtlety and the majesty of God’s creation. I’ve often been afforded a front row seat in her transformation from a questioning child full of wonder and delight to a “Woman of The Word” with a steadfast commitment to making this world a better place for each of us. Her effervescence, her joyfulness and her playful spirit are only matched by her intelligence, her determination, and her courage. It’s easy to say that she is beautiful, because indeed she is. But her beauty is more than what we see on the outside. She radiates a kind of beauty that comes from an old soul. Anna feels deeply; gives freely; loves unconditionally.

I sometimes reminisce about baby Anna or preschool Anna or middle school Anna and those are warm, tender memories, but the Anna that I know today is one that lets me see into the future. Her vision, her strength and her compassion are far beyond her years.

I have no doubt that she will be successful in all that she chooses to do. The fact that she is an honor student and leader in her school community is a preview of what her adult life will hold. Her ability to embrace new challenges and turn them into opportunities is a testament to her character. After enduring multiple surgeries a few years ago, she has now excelled at climbing and fearlessly scales walls, mountains and hillsides with aplomb. Anna is a faith-filled and giving young woman who serves others with joy, grace and humility.

My prayer is that I can stick around long enough to see how the rest of world will be changed by her, while I bask in the delight of knowing that my world has already been changed. I also pray that she occasionally looks back and remembers wrapping my hand and heart around that little finger…

Peace & (Love),

Denis (Granddad)