Twenty-Three
ONE OF THE FEW PERKS of being a parish priest is the many invitations I receive around the holidays to attend parties hosted by the various parish groups. Most are closer to Christmas, but I’ve attended a few Thanksgiving-themed parties. They’re usually pretty standard affairs, the food some variation of the traditional meal and the decorations including a cornucopia sitting on a brown and orange tablecloth.
But since this is the Blessed Carlo Acutis Society’s party—and Gladys was the decorating committee—things are far from traditional.
She repurposed some of the decorations from the Society’s Fairy Tales and Frights haunted house at the Myer Mansion and transformed the church basement into something out of Ancient Greece—or at least out of Age of Artemis, the massively mu
