Sister Renee Yann, RSM, D.Min, is a writer and speaker on topics of spirituality, mission, and ethical business practice. After twenty years in teaching and social justice ministry, she served for over thirty years in various mission-related roles in Mercy Health System of Southeastern Pennsylvania.
The world changes. The evening shadows gather and surprise us, like dinner guests arrived too early.
The meal is not ready; the wine not fully decanted; the candles yet unlit; our warm spirits not yet gathered to receive our visitors, carried by the chilly dark.
It is this way with life as well. Seasons of sadness, loss, longing and incompleteness intrude themselves into our light. We are not ready for their frosty secrets.
Yet they too carry the Great Spirit’s warm caress, though harder to discern.
So challenging to find the way to a peace hidden in darkness. So effortless to keep the path in a summer afternoon’s full light!
Yet we must not shun these blessed November evenings. They squeeze the most amazing brilliance through the vespering clouds.
Be still in their encroaching darkness. It is but a moment until, like a pinprick on velvet, the Evening Star appears tumbling a universe of diamonds into the night.
~ Renee Yann, RSM
Music: Adagio – Tomas Albinoni
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Suggested Scripture: Ecclesiastes 3:11
God has made everything beautiful in its time, and has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
Often, we see someone more clearly in death than we do in life.
One Sunday, nearly 25 years ago, our religious community gathered to commemorate the precious life of our Sister Germaine Donohue. Germaine, who was more familiarly called Mercedes (Mercy), was one of our missionaries in Peru. She was vivacious, compassionate, holy, and too young to die. While ministering in our remote mountain home village of Pacaipampa, Peru, this marathon runner who loved to dance suffered an unexpected heart attack. By the time the neighboring villagers brought her down the eight-hour descent to Lima, she lived only a few more hours. It was All Saints Day.
At her funeral liturgy, the legacy of love she had quietly planted throughout her life blossomed like a field of vibrant wildflowers. Listening to stories that spanned the 40 years of her religious life, it was easy to see how consistently she chose to be with others in simplicity, honesty, and joy. It became clear that everything in her life had led her to a remote mountain village among the poor, who perfectly mirrored her deepest values. They were her heart’s companions.
Just like producing a prize-winning garden, bringing one’s life to such a degree of simplicity and beauty is no easy task. As human beings, we are constantly battling the weeds of self-interest and the complexity it breeds. But when, like Germaine, we choose to learn from those who are poor, we can grow in our capacity to trust a Power greater than ourselves to sustain our lives. We thus become freer to celebrate the beauty of others and of life around us.
For their first ten years in Pacaipampa, our Mercy community had been laboring — without success – to bloom roses in their tiny garden. When the sisters returned from Lima with Sister Germaine’s body to bury her among her beloved poor, they were greeted with the miracle of the first Pacaipampa rose. It blossomed there, a new life among the simple “pueblos jóvenes”. Perhaps they named that rose “Mercedes”.
I share the story of Sister Germaine’s passing because I hope it will offer you the gift it gave to me. The slow, daily, and sometimes frustrating work of building our lives around truly important values will — in the long run — transform and bless us. In everyday decisions, it is difficult to get enough perspective always to realize that. But when our lives are gathered someday in the story-telling of our children, our friends, and our communities, may we be fortunate enough to have left a legacy of beauty — our own miracle “rose”.
Music: El Condor Pasa
This song, popularized by Simon and Garfunkel, is actually drawn from a Peruvian folk song.
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Suggested Scripture: Proverbs 31 (Adaptation)
Who can find a merciful woman? She is worth far more than rubies. Her community has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings them good, not harm, all the days of her life. She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her neighbors and portions for the very poor. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her work is fruitful, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her beloved community and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her neighbors arise and call her blessed; her family also praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman of mercy is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the heavenly gate.
In grade school, we had a course called “Picture Study”. Every Friday afternoon, Sister distributed small blue McLaughlin Notebooks. In them, we found the treasures of the great art galleries – paintings by Monet, Van Gogh, and Rembrandt. One of my favorites was a picture by Millet called “The Angelus”. In it, peasant farmers pause to pray as they gather their small harvest at the close of day. All the colors of late fall had dripped from the artist’s brush to capture feelings of peace, completion and hope.
I have a dear friend who doesn’t like fall. She is a complete and beautiful “summer” spirit! For her, autumn brings a sense of “closing down”. The freedom of summer evaporates; the heavy sharpness of winter looms. Some of us might feel that way as the sunlit hours shrink. But, for the reflective heart, there are deep blessings in Autumn’s ebbing.
Indeed, fall dances to a different tune from summer. The carefree skip of July becomes the thoughtful stroll of late October. It is a time for gathering, for counting the harvest, for putting up the fuel to sustain us through the winter. It is a time no longer to take things for granted. It is a time to pause and prepare. We begin to consider what the waning year has given us, and what it has taken.
As a child, I lived in a very old home originally built to house the 19th century immigrant factory workers of North Philadelphia. The kitchen, added by my grandfather’s own hands, was unheated. In the 1940s, my dad installed a pot-belly stove to warm this preferred gathering spot for our family.
Dad always left for work before the rest of us woke up. Beginning in the late fall, he would light a fire in that little stove every morning. By the time the rest of us assembled for breakfast, a freshly-perked pot of coffee awaited us atop the stove as a greeting from dad. I associated my father with that comfort and that delicious scent. Although we wouldn’t see him until late at night, his kindness accompanied us in the cozy, inviting kitchen every morning.
As deep October approaches, the earth steeps itself like fragrant tea in its own magnificent colors, but the chill suggests the coming change. Seeing this, I remember Dad and realize, such is the work of autumn:
to express beauty in the subtle colors of our kindness
to build the warm fires we know our loved ones will need
to brew the fresh tonic that wakes others to life and warms them against its sometime chill
It is a time now to glean summer’s final fruits and to wrap ourselves in their bounty; to listen, in the snug quiet of our spirits, to the voice of Love in our lives. What does Love ask of us as winter approaches? For each of us, the answers will be different. In the gathering October stillness, to what does the Divine Spirit invite me?
Music: Autumn “Allegro-Adagio Molto” (The Four Seasons) – Antonio Vivaldi
For Your Reflection:
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
“Pride of Place”. That’s what my Dad called it. I asked him one Sunday when I was about six years old, “How come Mamie Ounan always sits all alone up in that front pew?” Mamie was an elegant old woman, a little like Madame Belvedere in the classic movie, “Mrs. Miniver”. Each Sunday, Mamie Ounan processed up the aisle to commandeer the entire front pew in our parish church.
“Pride of Place”, Dad said. When I looked up at him, clueless, he explained. “Mamie’s been sitting there every Sunday for forty years. She sat there the Sunday after her husband died in a shop accident. She sat there every Sunday through the Depression when she struggled to keep her corner grocery open. She sat there the day her son was killed at Pearl Harbor. All the while, no homeless person ever went away hungry from Mamie’s back steps. She earned that pew and the rest of us are proud for her to have it.”
“Pride of Place” isn’t always something physical like a pew in church. More often it’s a moral or spiritual position that’s granted to us by others after we pay moral dues. These dues include trustworthiness, sacrifice, contribution, and wisdom.
All of us experience at least some “Pride of Place” passages in our lives. Remember when you moved up from the kids’ table at Thanksgiving dinner? Remember being a sophomore on freshman day? Throughout our lives, we advance through grade levels, job levels, military levels, even golf and bridge levels.
But earning real “Pride of Place” is very different from “making it to the top of the heap”. We receive the “Pride of Place” from others who recognize and respect us. We take “the top of the heap” from others who may begrudge it to us. Mamie was given “Pride of Place”. She didn’t take it. Otherwise, someone else would have beaten her to that pew each Sunday.
“Pride of Place” doesn’t come automatically with power or position. It comes with respect. Unfortunately, not every parent, boss, teacher, pastor, elder, president, or champion deserves it. It must be earned and kept as a trust. Even in hard times, its owner has to honor it and use it for others. Jimmy Carter had “Pride of Place”. Richard Nixon never did.
We all have the potential for “Pride of Place” in our lives. We can discover that potential by considering our responsibilities. We have kids, elders, employees, co-workers, neighbors, customers, and friends. We have homes, neighborhoods, and futures. We can impact all these things for better or worse.
Do we dispense those responsibilities with love, courage, and honesty? Do we use the power we have for others, not over or against them? Mamie Ounan, that little old lady in a tiny city neighborhood, had tremendous power. She gave people hope and example by the way she endured, by the way she cared, and by the way she lived.
If we haven’t begun to exercise that kind of power in our lives, maybe it’s time to stand up from the kids’ table and walk toward our own “Pride of Place”.
Music: The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba – George Frideric Handel
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Suggested Scripture– Proverbs 31 – Adaptation
Who shall find a valiant woman? She is worth far more than rubies. Her family has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings them good, not harm, all the days of her life. She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her neighbors and portions for the very poor. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her work is fruitful, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her beloveds and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her neighbors arise and call her blessed; her family also praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a generous woman is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the heavenly gate.
That long-ago October was particularly brilliant. It was one of those rare seasons where each morning was filled with sunshine and promise. It was a month that measured up to the poet, Helen Hunt Jackson’s, description:
O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October’s bright blue weather.
I remember that October so well because one of my friends was dying, stricken suddenly and irrevocably by a severe pneumonia. Only two of us could visit at a time, so I, along with her many other friends, would gather at times on the bench outside the hospital where she struggled to survive. We would watch that bright blue sky and turn over and over in our minds those questions that have no answers. Why so young, why now, why her?
Starling Murmuration – Joe Hisaishi
Flocks of starlings were in their seasonal dance, bold against that brilliant blue sky. Maybe you have noticed a few already this month, swerving through the air in their perfectly balanced helix, like smoke at the wind’s disposal. I remember watching them during that distant October, wondering if we had told Gail often enough how precious she was. She was a small, humble, and joyous person – very quiet and unassuming. I wondered if people fully understood the powerhouse of generosity and goodness underneath that humility.
Gail De Macedo, RSM August 11, 1937 – October 14, 1995
I found the answer at her funeral. Hundreds of people jammed the lanes to our Motherhouse and filled the chapel with their song to celebrate her life. She had quietly made her mark – and what a mark it was! Now, years later, the sharp edge of her loss has dulled somewhat, but her bold, quiet, courageous legacy has only deepened. In times when I need the gifts of humility, patience, generosity, and kindness, I pray to her. She always helps me.
Over this weekend, we should begin to see that “bright blue weather”. Watch for the graceful starlings, pirouetting their way to a winter refuge. Above all, as you wonder at Creation, reflect on love and kindness. Honor these virtues where you find them in yourself and your neighbors. They endure beyond all seasons.
Music: No More Goodbyes – Tom Dermody
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Today, for your reflection, a poem I wrote decades go. I offer it today in memory of Judy Ward, RSM who passed away on September 27, 2025. Her life will be celebrated on October 2nd in a Mass of Christian Burialin the chapel at Mt. St. Mary, where Judy attended school, became a Sister of Mercy, and taught for many years.
Judy, a gifted artist, did so much to encourage me and to illustrate and promulgate my work. I will miss her generous kindness and her friendship.
October is a time when nature changes clothes. Leaves, like miniature volcanoes, flare up and die, ashes at the foot of a silent, seemingly immortal tree. Geese, having dawdled all summer in veiled expectation, suddenly leap into the clouds and disappear. These solemn miracles may incline us to consider our own impermanence and the gossamer phenomenon we call life.
Healing
Music: A Playlist of Autumn Music
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
I’m sure you’ve done some “Creative Thinking”, just staring into space and letting your mind wander in an attempt to address all worldly problems, personal and universal. One of the best places to do this is in a car or train when no one will interrupt you.
As I drove to work one morning several years ago. I was doing some of that “Creative Thinking “. But it was a special type that I call “Creatively Selfish Thinking”.
Now for those of you who are a lot more angelic than I, and have never engaged in this type of thinking, I will describe it. It’s a fruitless mental exercise that endlessly repeats phrases like, “How come I do all the work, and she gets all the credit?” Or, “How come she can eat anything she wants and never gain weight?” Or, “How come anytime I make a little mistake, it’s such a big deal?” Or, “How come I work so hard, and she has a nicer car?” And so on, and so on, and so on…..
That’s the kind of thinking I was doing that morning when God gave me a Divine “kick in the butt”, as my young nieces would describe. I thought I’d share it with you just in case you are ever tempted to feed your mind with unproductive, self-defeating thoughts.
The revelation came as I drove past the Overbrook School for the Blind in Philadelphia. Crossing the street in front of me walked a father and son. The little boy was no more than four years old. He held his Daddy’s hand, with his face turned upward toward him in a smile. In his other hand, the child held the smallest cane that I have ever seen — not much more than a foot long. Yet as poignant a picture as they made, it was a picture filled with happiness. Both were smiling. Both were obviously joyful in each other’s company. They seemed uncompromised by a burden so obvious to me.
As I continued along my journey, I heard a voice inside me say, “Why are you obsessing over things you can’t change? A loving God holds your hand in both light and darkness. God is walking beside you. God delights in your life, and rejoices when you are joyful. God surrounds you constantly with signs of love and grace. Feed your mind and soul on that Truth.”
That encounter was a real gift to me. I thought perhaps there might be others who could benefit from the grace-filled “kick” I received.
Music: Lord, Hold My Hand – Jocelyn Soriano
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
I hope that, where you live, it is a glorious day – a perfect vestibule to a season of amazing beauty. In the northern hemisphere, Nature prepares to shed the plush accretions of summer in a multi-colored ritual of leave-taking. It is time to return to the essentials – back to the branch, back to the buried root, back to the bare, sturdy reality that will anchor us in eventual winter.
Each day, some green leaf or blade will ignite like a phoenix – a blaze of scarlet or gold, only to extinguish that flame for a long winter’s sleep. Nature knows when things are finished. It knows when it has had enough. It knows its need for a season of emptying, for a clearing of the clutter, for the deep hibernation of its spirit.
But we humans often ignore the need for an “autumning” of our spirits. We try to live every moment in the high energy of summer – producing, moving, anticipating, and stuffing our lives with abundance.
But simplicity, solitude, and clarity are necessary for our spirit to renew itself. Autumn is the perfect time to examine prayerfully the harvest of our lives – reaping the essentials and sifting out the superfluous. In the quiet shade of a rusting tree, we may discover what we truly love, deeply believe, and really need to be fully happy.
Take time on these crystal days to ask yourself what is essential in your life. If something besides them inhibits you, let it go.
Nurture your “essentials” with attention and care. Don’t take them for granted. After the flare of life’s summer has passed, these are the things that will sustain you: a strong faith, a faithful love, and a loving compassion. Tend them in this season of harvest
Music: The Four Seasons: Autumn – Antonio Vivaldi
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
Hold hands with your life. Look it in the eyes. There, in the stillness, God is revealing the miracle of knowing who you are.
But life can be hectic, can’t it? You might not have time to just “hold hands”, right?
Don’t you sometimes feel like Indiana Jones, running ahead of that huge boulder, trying to keep all your responsibilities from overwhelming you? Or maybe you feel as if your life has run so far ahead of you that you’re racing to catch up to it, watching it turn into a dot on the far horizon.
Life wasn’t intended to be like either of these images. Our lives are meant to be savored and lived in a deep awareness of our “present”. NOW is the only time we have. The people we are with, the challenges and joys we experience in this moment – this is our life. So many of us, running from the boulder or chasing the dot, let the beauty of our lives evade us.
When I see people holding hands, I am reminded to be still and to appreciate my life in the present. It’s beautiful to see a couple walking hand in hand, breaking a new pattern in the fresh snow. They might be young, just beginning an unimaginable journey. Or they might be elderly, having walked beside each other through miles of love and sacrifice, joy and sorrow.
I love to see a parent holding hands with their child. The child may be small, reaching up for security, protection and comfort. Or the parent may be old, reaching over for the same things. What a blessing to be beside someone whose touch can sustain your life!
Prayer is a kind of holding hands – God reaching for us, and we for God. I tried to capture the experience in a poem I wrote many years ago:
Poem: A Long Faith – Renee Yann, RSM
This is the way of love, perhaps near the late summer, when the fruit is full and the air is still and warm, when the passion of lovers no longer rests against the easy trigger of adolescent spring, but lumbers in the drowsy silence where the bees hum— where it is enough to reach across the grass and touch each other’s hand.
So hold hands with someone you love today, human or divine. Slow each other down to a deep appreciation of the gift of life in this present moment.
Music: Holding Hands – Creative Commons Instrumental Music
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
You were a kid once, right? Well when I was a kid, one of the things I really loved about September was getting a new box of crayons. It was a chance to start fresh. It was an opportunity once more to make my contribution to the design of the world with renewed sharpness and depth. It was a beginning participation in the infinite cycle of experience and revitalization we call “Life”.
Our ability with crayons, like our ability with life, develops in stages. As toddlers, our first box of crayons may have been a small three-pack of the primary colors, thick enough for little fingers to grasp, bright enough to make a mark, and (if Mom was lucky) maybe washable! Like life, each year our box of crayons grew bigger with both vibrant and subtle colors, usually indelible, a lot like life itself.
We learned not only that things are rarely black and white. They are not often really red, blue or yellow. We learned that a wild red rose begins as a shy pink bud, just like some people do. We learned that a true blue friendship doesn’t just happen but has to be proven through many green seasons. We learned that what appears to be a yellow streak may really hide the aqua depths of a courageous peacemaker. Each of our experiences brings us a greater capacity and depth to express the power of our spirit as they add the nuances of color to our understanding of life.
On September 11, 2001, our nation and our world added a bruising violet to our box of crayons. As time passes, we are learning to use that painful color to deepen our capacity for courage, compassion, hope, and resolve. Sometimes we and our leaders do this well; sometimes poorly. Our civic and moral duty is to pursue universal peace and justice for all peoples; to contribute to the well-being of Earth and all who share her riches.
As we continue to color our world with meaning, God, Who holds our hand, renews us in grace. In that grace, we are invited to begin afresh. We have a new chance every day to make our lives and our world better — just as we did in our early Septembers with that new box of crayons.
Let’s pray for and encourage one another — especially as September 11th approaches. Let’s pray for those who were most profoundly wounded by the deep purple shadow that fell over all of us that day. Let’s pray for leaders who have the magnitude of heart and spirit to create a compassionate and just world. And let’s reach out in sincerity to one another every day, like we did as children– sharing the colors of hope, faith, and love.
Music: Colors – Black Puma
This song and video present a moving contradiction. The music is upbeat, suggesting happiness. But in the video, a family struggles with losing their home and living unhoused. The video invites us to think about the counterbalance between struggle and joy, between justice and reality. Lyrics at end of page.
For Your Reflection
What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ?
What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?
[Verse 1: Eric Burton] I woke up to the morning sky first Baby blue, just like we rehearsed When I get up off this ground, I shake leaves back down To the brown, brown, brown, brown ’til I’m clean Then I walked where I’d be shaded by the trees By a meadow of green For about a mile I’m headed to town, town, town in style
[Chorus: Eric Burton with The Soul Supporters] With all my favorite colors, yes, sir All my favorite colors, right on My sisters and my brothers see ’em like no other All my favorite colors
[Post-Chorus: Eric Burton with The Soul Supporters] It’s a good day to be, a good day for me A good day to see my favorite colors, colors My sisters and my brothers, they see ’em like no other All my favorite colors
[Verse 2: Eric Burton] Now take me to the other side Little bitty blues birds fly In gray clouds, or white walls, or blue skies We gon’ fly, feel alright And we gon’, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, yeah They sound like ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh, yeah And the least I can say, I anticipate A homecome parade as we renegade in the morning, right on
Photo by Susanne Jutzeler, suju-foto on Pexels.com
Lavish Mercy 