This morning, during one of the brief periods during which I was conscious long enough to hit the snooze button, I receives a text message from the Jacques Daniel Family. "Father, we missed Mass this morning, and we wanted to bring Max. Have you said Mass yet? Will you be saying Mass?"Eventually, bleary eyed, I got myself out of bed and remembered that today was the feast of St. Maximilian Kolbe, the great martyr who gave his life in a concentration camp so that a Jewish father could live. Jacques' son Max was named for him, so it was a pleasure, at 1:30 to celebrate Mass with them and to remind the kids that even now, like St. Maximilian, they can begin laying down their loves in love of others by sharing Legos and other toys and listening to their parents. Following Mass I joined them briefly for Pepi's Pizza and began making some plans for my next fishing excursion. (I am planning on spending a day or two fishing with my next younger brother in the first part of September.)
I don't know about Max Daniel, but I had a pretty good St. Maximilian Day.
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