I gas up my truck on weekends. That’s because I carry a Toot-N-Totum card that awards ten cents off a gallon on Sundays, which is twice the weekday discount. Filling up on the Lord’s Day also re-enforces the fact that truck stops are holy places, at least according to St. Catherine of Siena...

The pager of the hospital chaplain buzzes on the glass tabletop of his desk, rattling the pennies that lay beside it. He picks it up and squints at the screen. “Code Blue in the surgical waiting room. We need to go.” He stands and throws on his blue sports coat, then tugs on the bottom hem, “Follow me.”

“It’s a rental, but that don’t matter. Kate likes the location and I’m good at fixing things up.” His name is Josh, but I call him Joe. He works construction, takes pride in pulling his weight and goes the extra mile for his friends...

It is two days before Christmas, and the excitement and anticipation of what is to come in the following days is evident in the parish office: lights are strung about the tree in the corner, reflecting their soft light off of the glassy red ornaments; tins of candy line the reception desk; Christmas cards form a pile of their own among the mess of papers on my desk. The phone rings. It is a call from the mortuary down the street....