|
On the first day of February, 1996, the phone rang. It was a nurse from Mercy Hospital in South Wilkes-Barre. The nurse said my mother-in-law, one of the loveliest women ever to grace the earth, wasn’t doing well. The original Mrs. Henry was 55 and suffering the ravages of ovarian cancer.
I remember the hazy details of this day every year about this time. The puffs of smoke from the modest homes surrounding the hospital. The chill in the room, a cold my mother-in-law had problems overcoming. And, one of our final conversations which emphasized the depth of her faith and her concern for the future of her three grandchildren, ages 5, 3 and almost 2.
“St. Boniface called. They have room for Mark,” I told her. Although she was gravely ill, I knew she was pleased. My mother-in-law had devoted her time and talents to St. Al’s and later Bishop Hoban. When the schools needed a set of hands, she was there. When nuns needed rides, she drove. She was a model parent and true believer.
In the fall of 1996, my son began his school career at St. Boniface. The dedication of the faculty and their ability to do more with less impressed us throughout the years. I tried to stand in the shadow of my role model, volunteering for playground duty and book fairs. It felt right. I knew she would have done the same.
The feeling changed last year around this time with the announcement that there would be no more St. Boniface School. There would also be no more Bishop Hoban. These decisions were surgically handled by the Diocese of Scranton. The reason was financial.
We have coped as best we can with different buildings, new names and new teachers. Last week’s announcement that the Diocese wouldn’t recognize the union teachers have belonged to for decades means more upheaval. We spent much of the early part of 2007 in turmoil as teachers packed up their desks and wondered about their futures. Déjà vu in the spring of 2008. This uncertainty is unsettling to those who chose Catholic education because of its structure and continuity. We wanted the teachers who taught our generation to teach the next one. We’ve been patient. We’ve prayed. We’ve accepted.
I, for one, am hoping our leaders will take a good, hard look at our churches. Maybe they’ll have an epiphany and realize the hands of blue collar laborers came out of the mines, scrubbed the dirt from their nails, changed into clean clothes and went off to build our churches. The windows, pews and statues were paid for with the sweat of their brows. Those who dropped out of school in the eighth grade strongly supported a quality education for their children and grandchildren, and they made sure religion was the cornerstone of the family foundation. Now, one has to wonder where we’re headed. Will the future of parochial education be a serious topic of discussion in a decade? |
Rush Limbaugh
