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[True Story] The flashlight.

Before my best friend drove us from her house to a homecoming party one night when we were in high school, her dad handed us a flashlight.

“You might need it,” he said.

We didn’t believe him.

But flashlight in hand, we hit the road.

We knew we were close to the home of the classmate whose family hosted the annual party when we turned onto a road that had no street lights. We arrived at a fork.

“Left or right?”

“Which one’s the driveway?”

“I have no idea.”

We picked left.

Through trees, we saw a bonfire sparkle from afar and the lights on the house. But the road we chose changed directions. My best friend stopped the car, in the middle of a pitch black patch of downhill property.

“How the heck do we get to the house?” she asked. We cracked up. “Do you have the flashlight?”

“I do,” I said, and handed it to her.

She flipped it on and shined it out the window. The beam of light traveled across trees, until it hit a sign right next to the car:

We in fact were not in our classmate’s driveway.

We were on her boat ramp.

– – – –

This post is part of a series of true stories, called “True Story.” Click here to read all the posts in the series.

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Three big deals.

Probably more than a year ago, I barged into my adviser’s office at the University of South Florida, where I am working on my master’s in rehab and mental health counseling. I dropped my book bag on the floor, stood in front of his desk, and said the following:

“I need you to help me.”

“With what?” he asked.

“I need you to help me drag this out.”

“Drag what out?”

“Grad school!”

He cracked up.

“IT ISN’T FUNNY,” I said (albeit while I laughed, too). “I’M SERIOUS.”

We laughed because grad students do not traditionally ask how they can spend as much time in school as possible. Grad students traditionally ask how they can spend as little time as possible.

But grad students aren’t traditionally afraid to graduate. Probably more than a year ago, I was.

I worried then that I might have to quit my job at the paper in order to graduate (and eventually, I did).

That I’d run out of time to study for comps, the exam that covers all the required courses I have taken in my 60 credit program (and I kind of am).

But I am happy to report the following:

Despite that I had to quit my job at the Times, and despite that I am running out of time to study for comps, I am now super stoked to graduate.

This is because I am tired. And I miss being able to watch some TV without regretting it. And socializing. And not setting my alarm on weekends. And responding to emails in a timely manner. And eating dinner at dinner time instead of before class (too early) or after class (too late).

It’s because I’m excited for what comes next. And for being able to sign my name with an “MA” after it.

Which is why it was very exciting this week, when I a) applied for graduation, b) registered for the commencement ceremony, and c) registered for comps.

These are three big deals.

These are points in my program I once didn’t want to reach, points I eventually couldn’t wait to reach. Finally, I have reached them.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pumped.

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Virginity auctions.

My heart hurts for a young, Brazilian woman named Rebecca Bernardo.

Her mother, who had a stroke, is now bed-ridden and requires assistance to eat and use the bathroom. The news says Bernardo, who is 18, barely could afford to hire help for her mom. In effort to raise funds sufficient to meet her mom’s needs, Bernardo used a YouTube video to solicit bids on what her mom – according to CNN – wishes she wouldn’t sell: her virginity.

A Brazilian news channel offered to cover Bernardo’s mom’s medical expenses if Bernardo calls off the virginity auction. Media ethics aside (journalists aren’t supposed to get involved), the outlet’s offer finagles Bernardo out of a bind. It provides her mom with what she needs without requiring prostitution of Bernardo.

It’s kind of a no-brainer. Except there is a snag in the story: Bernardo said no.

According to CNN, she turned the channel down because the sum of money the channel promised to provide to Bernardo solely would cover her mom’s medical expenses. It would not be enough, said the story, also to move her and her mom to a new town, where Bernardo could “start a new life.”

“There comes a time when you have to make decisions to get what you want,” Bernardo said to CNN. “You have to be strong.”

Which is true. I totes agree.

But if Bernardo says no when somebody offers to pay for what her mom needs, maybe what her mom needs isn’t what Bernardo actually wants. And if what her mom needs isn’t what Bernardo actually wants, what does she want?

I can’t answer that.

I can, however, say this:

One indeed must “be strong” in the face of something that’s hard. It requires strength to do a difficult thing, in other words. I don’t doubt it is difficult to take care of a mom who needs constant medical attention when you don’t have the money to pay for it.

But which action requires real strength: praying, trusting, and working through a really bad bind, or having sex for money so you can quickly find your way out of it?

I don’t blame Bernardo for her choice, although I neither agree with it nor trust her motives, given her decision to turn down the media outlet’s money. But I pray she opens her heart to real strength, before she accepts anybody’s bid.

Click here to read the story on CNN.

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Death.

A dove release in honor of my friend’s mom.

Today I attended a memorial mass, followed by a fabulous celebration of life for a good friend’s mother, who died a week ago today.

It amazes me how death unites people to each other and how it draws us toward Jesus (whether we act on it or not).

During mass, the priest said a prayer of thanksgiving to God – if I remember correctly – for summoning us to be there.

It kind of blew my mind.

Death already had such purpose (it’s our only road home).

But the purpose of death has more depth for me now that I see how powerful it is for the people who are left behind.

It is sad, yes. It can make a soul hurt. But, like the prayer said, it’s a summons. It’s kind of magnetic. It draws us toward each other and it draws all of us toward God.

I find comfort in this, and I hope you do, too.

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Make my blog better: What would YOU like to see?

Greetings, readers!

I write tonight with gratitude (albeit belated) for your faithful readership and thoughtful comments in 2012, which – as it turns out – was my busiest and best year for blogging yet. Thank you, sincerely!
The stats have spoken, and they say you really like when I write about chastity and sex. Please know a) there is a lot more from where previous posts came and b) I’d like to extend an opp to you to influence future posts. Already in the works are posts on virginity auctions, sex ed, early marriage, contraception, plus what the Catholic Church teaches about related topics.
But what I really want to know is what you really want to read.
So when you have a minute, please let me know what you’d like to see:
What haven’t I written about yet?
What have I written about that you’d like me to write about again?
If I could interview anybody about chastity, sex, or relationships, who would you hope it would be?

If you could pick a theme for a series of posts on my blog, what would it be?

Post your ideas in the comments below, or send it to arleenwrites at gmail dot com.
Grateful.