Mary Pezzulo

You may have already heard about a horrendous child abuse case that has been all over the news in my part of Northern Appalachia.

After the heat wave and then the rain, the garden was a mess. The tomatoes were coming along, though they needed to be pruned.

The apocalypse began at the lake. Early in the week, Adrienne and I took Jimmy's boy to the lake for an afternoon of noisy fun.

As we drove up towards Wintersville, we couldn't see the hills to the north or the Union Cemetery to the south. There was nothing but a wall of ash, as if Steubenville had broken free from the rest of the earth and risen up into the clouds. When we got out of the grocery store, the car was dusty with little blotches of filth that hadn't been there before. Later, after putting away the groceries, as we drove in the opposite direction to the bridge and Weirton, we could barely see opposite shore of the Ohio. That brown and tan layer cake of shale cliffs a thousand miles away was invisible, as if I had dreamed it. It seemed entirely possible that the bridge had disappeared, and we would fall into the river. But of course, we didn't.

The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a man who sowed good seed in his field. While everyone was asleep his enemy came

He proposed another parable to them. “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that a person took and sowed in a field.

There is a truth I've learned, and it's a painful truth: there are, and have always been, two Churches.

It started with a spat over poison ivy. Jimmy's boy came by to inspect the garden. The garden is getting exciting.

I was happy in the sunshine today. I went to Toronto, the little town north of Steubenville, which has a glorious clean outdoor pool.

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew: When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself.