Steve's Aunt Tells Him of His Birth

Steve's aunt, telling him yesterday about the day of his birth 60 years ago, which was just a few weeks after she made her vows as a Benedictine nun:

When you were born, your father came from the hospital to the monastery to tell us the good news.  [Both of Steve's father's sisters are Benedictine nuns.]  Sister Portress answered the door, and there was a man standing there who said, "I've just come from the hospital where I was with my son."

Thinking there had been some accident or that the man's son was sick and he was coming to ask for prayers, Sister asked, "How old is your son?"  And your father answered, "Fifteen minutes old."

There's something very sweet about the fact that Steve's father rushed from the hospital after Steve's birth (in those years, the father was discouraged from hanging around the delivery room or the mother's room following birth) to tell his two sisters who were young nuns that they had just become aunts.  And it has given Steve quite a bit of amusement and joy, as his birthday arrived, to think that his life span of 60 years coincides with the 60th anniversary of the profession of his aunt as a Benedictine.  

Steve's father, who was a good, peace-loving, gentle and strong man, has been in our thoughts lately.  The three-year anniversary of his death will be this Thursday.

The graphic is a sketch I did of Steve years ago, which I blew up into a poster for his birthday.