12 Comments
Apr 10, 2023Liked by Annette Januzzi Wick

Oh my, Annette, you've touched all the bases on the Good Friday tradition that I followed with my family (mostly with my Dad and my sisters) for so many years. Through rain or sunshine, accompanied by songbirds and the first buds of Spring, we mumbled our Hail Marys, Glory Be's, and Our Fathers, till we reached the top and touched the feet of the life-size statue of Jesus. I imagined I'd earned a whole bucketload of graces, further staving off my fears of Hell and damnation. Returning to "the steps" much later as an adult, I too realized I was drawn more to the birdsong and the solitude of a walk in Spring Grove Cemetery, for example, where I could pray a prayer of communing with nature and all creation. And by the way, I don't remember ever seeing any donuts at the top! Thank you, once again. You continue to find your voice and enrich us all. Love, K

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Apr 10, 2023Liked by Annette Januzzi Wick

Thank you. I walked with you in spirit up those stairs. Love your writing. 🙏❤️

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So glad Lynne could celebrate with you. I'd heard that story about the archbishop as well. Hope your donation fuels the return of glazed donuts, (smile).

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Apr 10, 2023Liked by Annette Januzzi Wick

I love how church is really anywhere you feel it. Too many are like the lady in line, just going through the motions. Thanks for sharing. :)

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Apr 9, 2023Liked by Annette Januzzi Wick

I got goosebumps when you talked about the part of "my mom did this every year"...Thank you for sharing so much.

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I was faithful to the tradition for many years, both with my mother and once she was gone. All of the yearly ritual is tied to pointedly to the Irish and German poor who lived in the ghetto that once was Mt. Adams. So sad to hear that there are no donuts. That, too, is a tradition.

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