Nov. 30 is my birthday, and this year, like the year I was born, it was both the first Sunday of Advent and the season’s first snowfall. Although I usually go to evening Mass at St. Paul’s, this Sunday I decided to give myself a gift and walk the 2 miles to St. Paul’s in the blue morning snow.
As I crossed a side street, a car pulled up at the stop sign and honked. It was my good friend, Sylvia Geraghty, who also happens to be my mother-in-law. I laughed and walked over to her car. She rolled down the window.
“Are you lost, young man?” she asked.