(Rerunning this, but who's keeping track?)
A joyous day in the middle of the desert! (Not officially a feast day, so put that chocolate down.)
March 11, 1990:
Karen's baptism, by an Episcopal priest (a perfectly lovely man who in no way pressured her to join the Episcopal church, which she was not ready to do. She knew only this one thing: "I must be baptized." Happily, Fr. Orval Spencer obliged.)
Atticus, of course (though he reiterated that this Christian stuff was fine with him, as long as it did not affect our lives.)
Friend Jack, who drove five hundred miles to be there (and was later present for my reception into the Catholic Church, and even later, present with his wife, also a convert, at Atticus's reception into the Church.)
An overwhelming urge to tell people about God.
The desire for children.
The birth of children.
Catholicism all around.
I guess it affected our lives.