It made the front page of The Brawley News: two young brothers were killed by a motorist while they were riding a bike. I knew one of the brothers, Clifton Socky; he was in my fifth-grade class. He and his family lived in Hank’s Court on the same street as me. Clifton rode on the handle bars of the bicycle while his brother peddled. A popular football player from Brawley Union High School accidentally hit and killed the brothers. These deaths froze my heart with fear. Though Clifton was only an acquaintance, I came to the realization that death was real and it that could have been anyone on our street.

We lived outside the city limits, very close to country living, surrounded by fields and fields of carrots, sugar beets and tomato farms. We had two addresses that were both delivered to the same mail box: Route 1 Box 6-H or 1669 East “I” street. Kids like me were always running the streets, some on bikes and others on foot. We played outside in a carefree environment, without a worry in the world. But After Clifton and his brother’s death, I knew I had to be more careful.

The street on which we lived was used as a shortcut to reach Highway 111. We lived about seven houses from this highway. “I”street  had one store. Jin Wong’s, was about two city blocks from our home. Jin Wong sold penny candy by the bulk, but this is were we purchased our staples like milk and bread. This is also where I was introduced to potato chips; at ten cents a bag, it was the greatest deal ever! Jin Wong could not communicate in English very well, but money speaks all languages; as long as you paid  for the product, life was good. Years later Jin Wong left for a season and then came back with a Chinese wife. I found this a little strange, because to an eleven-year-old he was an old man; in reality he was probably in his early 50’s.

When we got older, my friend Nancy and I would sneak over to the Airport Market which was located on the corner of Main Street and Highway 111.  This was considered a dangerous trek because we walked along Highway 111, where the passing of semi-trucks left us with a strong gust of wind as they barreled through the highway. Airport Market was such an improvement over Jin Wong’s; they had better choices of candy and a variety of potato chips. Airport Market had Wampum Corn Chips, with Big Chief Wampum as their logo. This was one of my favorite brands of corn chips. Big Chief Wampum had a speaking part in the commercials, but he spoke in a broken Indian dialect: “Me want a Wampum, a yummy, yummy Wampum.”  Poor Big Chief! In today’s world he would be crucified and criticized as an example of racism in its highest form.

J.W. Oakley School had a program to introduce us to banking. I came across my old school savings account booklet, and, as you can see, I was a big saver! To this day I still bank with Bank of America.

Small Town

When I was eight-years-old, our mother was forced to raise us on her own because our father left. My brothers, although, in their teens, worked to help make ends meet. When I was around thirteen, something wonderful happened to me. I received  my Social Security card and got a job. My sister Jo and I were both hired to pick tomatoes. This was a wonderful experience. For the first time in my life I felt independent. I remember getting in line to receive my daily wage of $12 cash. I thought of all the potato chips I could buy with this money, but I bought a pair of white Burmuda shorts with a brightly colored turquoise top. I’m not sure what happened, but this first paying job was short lived (three days); maybe it was because of my age or because I was being paid under the table. Only God knows. What I do remember was showing proof of my Social Security number. Sometimes I’d picked up a little extra money by babysitting the Allen kids across the street, but I was only paid 50 cents an hour, so the most I’d ever received was one dollar at a time.

I never felt that we went without. Brawley had a theater, a library and several larger grocery stores than Jin Wong’s. Our main street had several clothing stores, and if we needed more we’d drive down to El Centro. We attended church sporadically because of transportation problems. Brawley was safe and peaceful. It was the only life I knew; I never realized we lived in poverty because our mother made do with what we had. We always had clean clothes and, when there was a shortage in food, God always provided.

Romans 8:31 New American Bible (Revised Edition)

³¹ What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who can be against us?

When my brothers got older, they discovered the border town of Mexicali, Mexico. The night life was a lot more lively than sleepy Brawley, and in Mexicali you could consume alcohol to your heart’s content. This kept our poor mother up until the boys got home in the early morning hours. I remember one of my brothers getting  into a pretty bad car accident. This may have been one of her deciding factors for our move from Brawley.

The Move

The last time I visited Brawley was for our cousin Gilbert’s funeral.  I picked up my brother Mike in Banning and then headed to Palm Desert to pick up George. Gilbert’s celebration of life was beautiful. After paying our respects, all I wanted to do was drive by our old house. I had many bittersweet memories of the home our dad built with his own hands. It was disheartening to see that most of the beautiful eucalyptus trees were removed to make room for a sidewalk on “I” street.  Our childhood home was gone, and in its place was an empty lot with semi-trucks parked in the back. Our father, who was a great builder of homes, never managed to finish ours. Instead he left us incomplete, just like the house. I was sad to see the empty lot, but I was rejoicing because no one can take away our memories of a past life.

The other day while waiting to be seated at a restaurant I noticed a couple walk in. I was intrigued by the young woman because she had a wad of hair stuck to the back of her dress. I wanted to pull her aside to inform her, but couldn’t think of an opening statement. I practiced in my head, “Excuse me, but you have a nest of hair on the back of your dress.” Of course I did not say a word, but I wondered how and why this happened to her. That image never left me, and now I wonder if I’m being punished for being a busybody because my hair is not only falling out but it’s actually shedding.

Dr. Google

It started about two weeks ago. I noticed a lot of hair on the light-colored tile floor of my bathroom. When I brushed my hair after washing it, the brush was covered with so much hair! Immediately I made a virtual consultation with Dr. Google. Sure enough, this is COVID-related, so I’m suffering from an episode of telogen effluvium. It’s several months later, but I’m still being affected by  the aftermath of this virus.

When I color my hair at home I usually make a big mess. It’s inevitable that I get color on either my arms, under my right thumbnail or both. The last time I colored my hair, all of my nails had this dark pigment. I knew it was not the hair dye, so, again, I asked Dr. Google for help. Yep, now I’ve developed melanonychia. Turns out that this, too, is from COVID. Both of these side effects are not life-threatening. All will return to normal in six to nine months, and eventually all my hair will grow back.

Halitosis

The latest side effect  is offensive; I suffer from this strange smell living in my mouth. I know it’s there because when I brush my teeth, it seems to activate something and the stench is stronger. I asked Mike, “Have you noticed if I have bad breath?” He smiled at me and said, “Yes, I was going to say something, but I didn’t want to upset you.” The masks, which I loathe, are now my constant companions; and now I respect the six-feet of distancing requirement.  I’ve become a prisoner of my own bad breath. I’m still researching if this has anything to do with COVID. I suspect it has to do with something in my intestines, so I called my primary care physician to make an appointment with the gastroenterologist. Evidently, due to understaffing, the appointment is not until the end of November and that’s just for a consultation!

Chewing gum does work for bad breath, but it’s only for a few minutes. I’ve never been a fan of chewing gum because I don’t know what to do with the chewed-up gum. I would never discard it on the ground or spit it out while driving. So I wrap it into an old receipt and keep it in my purse until it ruins the bottom of my handbag. One of my biggest pet peeves is seeing gum on the sidewalks. Chewing gum is resilient and it develops a second life when the weather gets really hot. It finds its new home on the bottom of your shoes. You can’t get into your car with this adhesive on your shoes; it has to be cleaned off. For this reason Disneyland does not sell any sort of gum on its premises.

Remaining Faithful

On Tuesday I have an appointment to see how many antibodies I have left from the virus. I’m praying about which steps to take next. Despite these setbacks I have chosen to remain faithful; nothing is going to get me off track with serving God. All testings are designed to make us draw closer to Him. Even though I lament about this situation, I have no anger or blame for what I’m enduring. If God was with me during the worst part of COVID, He is with me through these minuscule problems. Something beautiful always comes from overcoming serious trials in our lives.

Drawing Closer To God

If you give up because you believe that you can’t take it any longer, you are missing the biggest blessings that God has in store for you. Blessings are part of the reward and you must learn to go through these everyday battles, knowing that you are being prepared for the war. As Christians we are going to experience persecution; in each battle we are being built up to fight whatever the Devil throws our way. With each victory comes the confidence to remain steadfast in your trust and to remain faithful. You can choose to crawl into a hole and wait for the storms to pass, or you can rise up and face the attacks. Job lost his family and all of his many possessions; he was in complete disarray. But one thing set him apart from the rest of us: he never cursed God. In his anguish he experienced so much emotional distress that his wife suggested that he should curse God and die.

Job had an ear to hear God; though he heard the negative voices, he shut them out because he remained faithful and trusted that God would see him through. We must take into account that Job was an extremely wealthy man, but because of his faithfulness he received twice as much has he had before.

God does not want us to worry about anything. If we can master this knowledge about worrying, our life would be free from stressful situations. Usually when we hear bad news about something that is out of our control, we panic and immediately want to take action. When I read about something in the news that is against my core beliefs, a spirit of  fear sets in; then after processing the negative narrative I calm down. My first reaction is always emotional, either anger or disbelief; but when the Spirit of God overtakes me, I’m reminded of Who is in control.  I have learned that when things are beyond my control, it does no good to dwell on them. If the bad news really affects me, I pray.

Worrying Makes You Sick

If your worrying is out of control, it can become so stressful that you can make yourself physically ill. Anxiety  is worrying on overload. It is a known fact that many chronic illnesses stem from stress. According to the Mayo Clinic, people who suffer from stress have a higher risk of heart attacks, high blood pressure, asthma, obesity, diabetes, headaches, depression and anxiety, gastrointestinal problems and Alzheimer’s disease.

When I was a young mother, my husband and I owned our company; I had to go to work while our children were in pre-school. Even though I worked part-time, I was obsessed with the fear of earthquakes, and worried about not being with my children during an earthquake. Praise God, I outgrew the fear of earthquakes as our children got older.

The Blog

This Blog was given to me by the Lord.  After months of prayer, the Lord spoke to me in a dream. I was instructed as to what to name it, and what the logo should look like. I worried that no one would read the Blog, or that it was uninteresting. I worried that the name “My Catholic Roots are Showing” was too long. I worried that the title of my Blog would offend non Catholics. My worries were real and I was scared to take on this responsibility. But when I started to write the Blog, it became a labor of love. The words poured out naturally, but that did not stop the worrying. Every morning the first thing I would do was look at the stats to see how many hits I had. The first years were dreadful and I thought of giving up. My worries always put me in a state of doubt. “Why am I doing this if it doesn’t make a difference?” was my constant self-talk. Then I heard from the Lord again. This time He was telling me to trust Him and to continue with the writings. I no longer worry about who reads or doesn’t read the Blog. I know that I have touched  people from all over the world. The seeds that I am planting through this Blog are springing up hope for those who need a word of encouragement. God wants me to share His good news from a Catholic perspective. I’ve lived the life of a Protestant so I know how many of them feel about certain dogmas within our Catholic beliefs. The saints are our examples of holiness and Mary is undeniably the Mother of God. We know how we feel if someone speaks ill of our own mother; imagine how the Son of God feels when His mother is a subject of scrutiny.

“A soul in a state of grace has nothing to fear of demons who are cowards.” St. Therese of Lisieux

Saints Who Suffered from Anxiety

St. Therese of Lisieux was a Carmelite nun. Her entire life’s mission was to serve God. She suffered from scrupulosity, in other words, obsessive compulsive disorder. This disorder was not abnormal among people of great faith. They believed that things that were not sin, were sin. These fears consumed their minds so much that they had to seek affirmation. In St. Therese’s case she would go to her sister, who was also a nun, or a priest for direction. But that affirmation did not last long and soon St. Therese would fall back into her anxiety. St. Therese finally overcame her scrupulosity by denying herself  from seeking affirmation. In her short life of twenty-three years, she was recognized for her wisdom and was declared as a Doctor of the Church. St. Therese is also known as the saint of little things. You can ask her intercession when suffering from anxiety. Catholics believe and benefit from the intercession of the saints even if they lived centuries ago.

.Hebrews 12:1  New American Bible (Revised Edition)

“Pray, hope, and don’t worry. God is merciful and will hear your prayer.” St. Padre Pio

Praying and Healing

In some cases it may take more than prayer to rid yourself of worry. Prayer will lead you to the right counselor or to a doctor who can help with anxiety. In no way am I attempting to minimize this condition; mental illness is real and should be treated professionally.

People who suffer from serious health conditions have a tendency to worry. Even if you have been given a certain amount of time to live, you can pray for a miracle. You can also be an example of grace to those who have no faith. With every breath you take, give God the glory. We touch so many souls when we are most vulnerable because we are in His hands of mercy.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, all the bad news of the world is in Your hands. I trust that You will guide all of us who suffer from worrying to a place of understanding. To those who have fear and doubt about the future, show them a sign of Your great love. Help us walk through this valley of darkness and shed Your holy light on us. Amen.

“The closer one approaches to God. The simpler one becomes.” St. Therese of Lisieux