Things to be thankful for

November 2018

This month we have asked our writers to reflect upon the recent abuse scandals in the Catholic Church, and their roles as laypeople in its healing.

For extraordinary human goodness

Harry Scherer
Class of 2022

Are we, as humans persons, naturally good? This question comes to my mind as we approach the annual autumnal event designed specifically to give thanks because, if so, we have so much to be thankful for.

The answer to this question became overwhelmingly clear to me in June of 2013. The month preceding, my friend and I had been galivanting in the fields, as 13-year-olds do. Disregarding the advice of my parents and the National Institutes of Health to cover up my ankles, it was on that day that a deer tick sought and attained refuge in my body. It was only two weeks later when my family and I had travelled and arrived in Rome, Italy that I was made aware of this infectious invader. Within an hour of landing in Italy, which had been my first encounter outside of America, I had severe flu-like symptoms and was relegated to the hotel bed.

The room that the small hotel assigned to us was adjacent to the lobby of the family-run establishment. This geographical placement was just the first evidence of Providence that proved to be beneficial to my recovery.

The owners of the hotel were as kind and hospitable to me: a sick, American middle schooler, as they would have been had they been hosting the President of Italy. They very well could have taken the position of insouciant hotel owners, claiming their lack of understanding because of the language barrier. Instead, this family, who has spent their entire lives offering ‘welcome!’ to everyone who walks inside, courageously embraced their vocation and exceeded our expectations as hotel owners.

For the first two days of the trip, no one knew the source of my slowly intensifying illness. My fever rose to 105 degrees, with constant fatigue and occasional bouts of vertigo. The family made their desire to help known from the outset. First, they scheduled a visit from a doctor to come to the room. While the doctor did wrongly prescribe medication to treat a viral infection, the effort of the hotel owners to find the cause of my illness was apparent.

When my parents needed to recover from the unfulfilled expectation after the misdiagnosis and to fulfill their Sunday Mass obligation, the patriarch of the hotel family walked my parents to the nearest church. Unable to speak or understand English, it was this older man’s quiet nature that spoke volumes to my parents about the nature of selfless love, especially in a time of need. My mom also experienced a supernatural trust to leave me in the hotel room by myself, door ajar, under the complete protection and care of Giuseppe, the son of the family. To this day, she is baffled by the ease with which she left me in the hotel room of a foreign country in a state of such vulnerability.

The unbridled desire to find the source and treatment of my illness was apparent in the eyes of that caring family. Finally, they sent their cousins, a married couple that both were medical doctors, into my room. They noticed a bullseye rash, a common symptom of Lyme disease, on my side, and immediately diagnosed medication for treatment. I was back to my normal self by the end of the day.

On the next day, we left the hotel as quietly as we came in. The adventure of walking through the ancient city was quickly transformed into an adventure of confusion, trust and ultimate gratitude. At the time, it was very difficult to understand the reasoning behind the great lengths to which the hotel staff was trying to ensure that we would be welcomed into their country at a time of sickness in which any family would certainly rather be at home.

This lack of understanding points to the long-term effects of the virtue of gratitude. While we are experiencing generosity, kindness and love from another person, the extent to which the other person is giving of themselves is rarely seen in the present moment. Perhaps the delayed nature of gratitude is one reason our country has dedicated an entire day to giving thanks to God for our lives, our friends and family and our prosperity.

By extension, this question reverts to the inquiry of whether humans are naturally good or naturally evil. Before I arrived in Italy in the summer of 2013, I might have questioned whether we are limited by the quantity and consistency of our actions and whether those actions define who we are as persons. I posit that we, every born and unborn human person, are naturally good. That is, it is unnatural to do evil. This sentiment should lead to immediate feelings of gratitude.

Consider the alternative. If we were more prone to be malicious, then war would be the norm and peace would be an outlier. Discord would be accepted, and agreement would be questioned. Naturally, one reality for which that I constantly overlook to give thanks is simply being and living in this country. In the history of the world, the chance to live in the United States in 2018 is so microscopic, that it causes me to be overcome with awe at the will of God that I should be so blessed to live in this place and at this time.

This sort of realization is what is so unique about this American holiday. Our country needs to have Thanksgiving. There is something very therapeutic and revitalizing about the common effort to recognize our blessings and prosperity and I believe it stands to be one of the greatest traditions that this country holds. It is a commitment to gratitude.

Whether your family’s Thanksgiving dinner relates more to Norman Rockwell’s famous Freedom from Want painting or to Tim Allen’s unexciting meal at Denny’s in The Santa Claus, it can be sure that the necessity for this holiday is stronger today than ever before and that the recognition of our inherently good nature is a constant reality to be continually thankful for.

Read other articles by Harry Scherer

Don’t know what you’ve got til it’s Gone.

Angela Tongohan
MSMU Class of 2021

Do you remember when Joni Mitchell sang Big Yellow Taxi and belted out the iconic words, "Don’t it always seem to go/ that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?" I felt that on a personal level.

For the loyal readers of Four Years at the Mount, some of you may remember me. I wrote for the News-Journal during my Freshman year two years ago, then suddenly disappeared. Not only from writing, mind you, but from the University as a whole.

A great number of events happened to me during my sophomore year, but instead of delving deep into the reasons why, I’d rather tell you what resulted from what turned out to be the most transforming year of my life.

I always considered taking a year off before college. It was an option for me as a senior in high school. I always thought that giving myself an extra year to figure things out would be quite beneficial for my future. The transition between high school and college always seemed a bit sudden. That plan, of course, was promptly squashed by my mother, who reminded me that becoming a doctor took almost ten years, and that adding another year to "find myself" could prove to be an effective waste of my time.

In all means, she was right. With the path I wanted to take, and the amount of years before I reached the age of thirty, I didn’t really have the time to take a year off and experiment. But during my sophomore year, for reasons I’d like to remain private, I had no other choice but to do exactly that.

While I was in school, before I left, I was stressed beyond belief. I couldn’t quite get the hang of chemistry, no matter how much I studied, and the amount of reading required for my science and core classes combined were enough to keep me completely trapped in my room for the entire semester, without many breaks. I was going through a crisis because I wasn’t sure what I truly wanted to major in. I had always wanted to be a doctor, but I was slowly realizing that my strengths were definitely not in science. I was secretly miserable.

I had never considered any other major other than one in science, so when I put in serious thought about switching majors, I had no real idea of anything else I could possibly want to do. I was lost. As a result, I was constantly complaining. I complained about school, about my lack of sleep, about always having to study. I stopped putting in the effort and started doing poorly in my classes. I guess I subconsciously wished for myself to take a break. And when events occurred, I was put on a ‘Leave of Absence’ and got exactly that. I never felt happier. At least, for the first few months.

You see, after a few months of doing nothing but thinking, you start to get bored. And in the age of social media, you have the ability to keep constantly updated with the lives of all your friends. I’d watch as they went to parties or attended volunteer trips. I’d watch as they ate lunch together and studied in the library. I realized just how much I missed doing those things, those same things that I used to be able to do and complain about.

Now, I know some of you must wonder why I didn’t simply go back to school. Well, I couldn’t. For one because of those undisclosed reasons, and for two, because I was at the school because of scholarships, and was not sure whether I’d still have those scholarships if I returned.

I was being left behind. I realized how hard it is to get a proper paying job here without a college degree, so I knew that I wanted to come back, but it seemed hopeless. It took hours to get someone on the phone from the Department of Education, and days to receive replies to emails. As the months drifted by, and the next school year inched closer, I started to reprimand myself for not appreciating how much I had when I had it.

It was only until it seemed like I was unable to go back to school, that I realized just how privileged I was to get an education in the first place. I think it’s a very grave issue for first world, technologically-advanced countries like us who are always taking things for granted. Others struggle to have food and water while we complain about not having the latest version of the iPhone. While in other countries, girls fight for their right to education, I almost threw mine away.

It was a wake-up call.

And now that I have returned, I am very thankful for what I have. I have learned not to take things that come so easily to us for granted. We are so blessed and lucky to have the access and means to such basic needs of survival. Because of how easy everything is to acquire, we tend to believe it will never run out or disappear. That’s not true. Education, freedom of speech, mobility, and knowledge… All these things plus more are privileges, not rights.

My year off was not only a smack-in-the-face realization. It was also full of blessings and happiness. It was full of wonder and adventure, and I was able to find what I really wanted to do in life. I was given a sense of direction; a new understanding of the world and myself. I "found" myself. And I am so thankful for that.

Because of this, I am now also thankful for everything that I once had and will have. I can tell you from experience, and with complete and utter belief that Joni Mitchell knew exactly what she was talking about. You really don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

Read other articles by Angela Tongohan

Foundation of success

Morgan Rooney
MSMU Class of 2020

The holiday I most look forward to is Thanksgiving. Of course, Christmas, Easter, and my birthday (if a birthday is even considered a ‘holiday’) are up there on the list, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that the way many people celebrate is materialistic. Gift giving is great but I’m sure that many of us feel pressured to get all our friends and family what they want to avoid their disappointment. This is something I haven’t gathered at all from Thanksgiving. In my family, at the very least, it is about getting together and spending time together. This is so important to me because the support of my family is the thing I am most grateful for and I certainly wouldn’t be in the place I am today without their love and support.

Thinking back to my youngest days, where my earliest memories were being made, I think of being walked into my first day at Kindergarten, filled with confusion and nervousness. I built up my anxiety so high from the night before. What I remember most is my dad not leaving until I was settled in and comfortable in this new, strange environment.

Not too long after beginning Kindergarten, I also remember us sitting together on the floor of our great room. He was being patient with me, teaching me how to tie my own shoes so that I could soon do it by myself when I needed to. I remember being taught how to swim shortly after that, and how to ride a bike independently.

I remember being encouraged to be creative: draw, make music, play imaginary games. I remember being taken once a week to my grandma’s house to sit at the piano and learn new songs. When I got older and joined my middle school orchestra, I always had my family in the audience. They encouraged me to push forward and become a better musician.

When I turned 15, I was very motivated to get my learner’s permit and begin driving. I remember feeling unprepared to drive on a real street (as opposed to parking lots or neighborhoods), yet I was told to do so, because if I never left my bubble I would never move forward. I would drive about 30 minutes every night to pick up my younger sister from her extracurricular activities while my dad would sit in the passenger seat and give me critiques on the daily route. With all this support and daily driving, I felt so much more comfortable and safe.

When I was 17, I remember being sat down by my dad to research a variety of universities and areas of study. I hadn’t a clue what I wanted to study or who I wanted to be. I had thoughts all over the place and growing anxieties as I felt as if I was running out of time (which sounds ridiculous now). I remember my dad helping my fill out my college applications and reading my college essays, carefully proofreading the small mistakes I overlooked the first time. I remember taking a road trip across Texas to visit different universities and getting tours around the schools I had the potential of being accepted into. I remember leaving my grandfather’s burial at the Arlington National Cemetery to drive to upstate New York to visit a private university I had been accepted into and then back to Maryland in time to catch a flight back home.

I remember being dropped off on my first day of college and going through my first few weeks. I’d call back home once in a while if I was in need of help with an assignment.

When my freshman year was coming to an end and I was having another crisis of not knowing what I wanted to study or who I wanted to be, help was only a phone call away. I talked with my dad about what I enjoyed learning and what I struggled with. I told him about what I was good at and what I couldn’t seem to understand no matter how hard I tried. I received useful advice and changed my major shortly afterwards to something that I know I will stick with, because I love what it has given me.

When I was interested in going on a trip to Europe to further my French comprehension, I was strongly encouraged and supported in doing so. I went to Europe over the summer and made some of the best memories of my life and created strong relationships. Without the help of my family, I would never have made it and would never have had the experiences that will remain in my memory until the end of my life.

I could sit here and list thousands of ways I have felt supported in my life and that would not be sufficient in explaining how grateful I am to have this support system, which I know not everyone is fortunate enough to have. I am grateful that I know I will be supported in my future decisions (given that they are within reason) and encouraged to ultimately follow the path I wish to take, knowing that it will likely change along the way. I am grateful that I was not pushed to go after a career or field of study that I was not inspired or meant to be in. To have affirmation with me when I make my important decisions means everything to me and only pushes me to go further. I hope that one day, I will be able to provide what my family provided me to my own children so that they can be encouraged and will want to be successful in whatever way they see fit. Support is my foundation of success. It made me independent in all the best ways.

I would encourage everyone not to focus on the things that you don’t have, but the things you do. It makes all the difference.

Read other articles by Morgan Rooney

The one thing certain

Shea Rowell
MSMU Class of 2019

Fall is the most beautiful season at Mount St. Mary’s. The mountain greets us with hints of red, orange, brown and gold, accenting the beautiful golden Mary statue that looks down the mountain from the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. It is, in my experience, the most challenging time of year academically, and for seniors, a time of great uncertainty and change. A quarter of the year behind us already, we watch the falling leaves, feeling that something good is coming to an end. As I watch my mountain home gradually change into her glorious autumn attire, I reflect on the way she has helped me to grow more appreciative of change in my own life.

The senior class this year is already beginning its inevitable cycle of reminiscence and sentimentality. We laugh with one another, "remember freshman year, when we climbed up to the grotto in three feet of snow? Remember when we stayed awake until 3am laughing and listening to music without a care in the world? Remember when we thought five-page papers were the most difficult task of our semester? Remember?" We look at ourselves now; the ones with 25-page papers to write, job applications to submit, and a bed time that wishes it could always be earlier. We fill our weekends with grocery shopping trips instead of spontaneous escapades. Instead of planning for our next round of classes, we are planning what our lives will be when we can no longer call this place our home: what will we do? Where will we go? Who will be with us along the way?

As I prepare for my first introduction to the professional world, I think of the many ways the Mount has prepared me to begin my career. With the help of the Career Center (where I have worked as a student assistant for four years), I have transformed from a nervous high school student without a clue into an emerging adult who is prepared to launch into the world. I have an eager team of career counselors, professors and mentors to provide advice and support when I need it. More importantly, the Mount has given me a sense of direction. Whether I find a job immediately or struggle in the job search, my Mount professors and classes have taught me that I am not aimless; there is value to human life and human work, and each person has a role to play in society. No matter which career I explore, I know that I will find ways to grow and excel. The seniors at the Mount have been transformed by the skills and experiences we have gained here, and we are ready to apply them more fully to our professional lives.

The Mount has also changed me by improving my ability to interact with others in community. I came to the Mount believing that the best way to live is independently. The surest way to live happily is to mind your own business and try to live a good and honest life. I have changed this opinion radically since I started college; or rather, I have been changed. I now see that the way I had planned to live was too focused on myself, and not enough on my role in serving and being served by the people around me. Independence is attractive from a distance, but it is also isolating. I have learned that while community life and relationships require vulnerability and occasional discomfort, these relationships force you to grow and change for the better. I have learned to truly appreciate the people around me: to rejoice in their gifts, their uniqueness, their virtues. I have learned to share my imperfections with others, and to be grateful for them instead of resentful, as they give me the chance to take ownership of my life and to embrace vulnerability. I have learned that the people with whom I spend my time are far more important than the activities, achievements, or obligations that fill it. I now see it as my duty to accept and give forgiveness, to help others in their need and to allow others to help me. Interdependence, I now know, is a far more fulfilling path to take.

Challenging assignments, experiences and relationships have changed me. The things I learn and explore in my classes shift my perspective on the world, making it more complex each day, and ultimately giving me more questions than answers. The people who have come into my life since I began college have given me more than they will ever know, and the relationships I have had with them have exposed my weaknesses and challenged me to become stronger. The only thing in life that has never changed and never will, is God. Immutable and infinite, God is never less than Goodness itself. While, from a human view, it seems that God comes during the comfortable times in our lives and abandons us in times of grief or struggle, God does not change or transform as we do. He is pure generosity and love, and He sustains us in every moment. The Mount has taught me that God is always there, inviting me to come to Him, loving me, challenging me, showing me my flaws and asking me to change them, showing me my strengths and asking me to use them. He has always been there, and His hand guides the changes I face in every passing year, day, and moment.

While much is uncertain in life, change is constant. Fall will turn to winter and winter to spring. We will meet new people and learn from them. We will experience new things and they will challenge us. We will be forced to change in relationships, in our careers and in our vocations whatever they may be. I thank God for change, because it has brought so many blessings. I thank Him for the falling leaves and the uncertainty that the future brings, confident that He will be there on the other side.

Read other articles by Shea Rowell

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