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Tuesday, May 1
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Feast of St. Joseph, the Worker
Sister Mary Helen grabbed the handrail of the Down escalator to steady herself. She peered into the late-night crowd at Newark Airport, hoping to spot their escort.
“Over there.” Nudging her, Sister Eileen pointed at a silver-haired woman holding a large printed sign that read OWLS WELCOME.
Mary Helen adjusted her bifocals. Sure enough, her friend Eileen was right. That was no doubt Mrs. Taylor-Smith, the woman who was to meet them and drive them to New York City.
“I feel downright foolish standing under a sign marked