Events

By Krista
Knockout
Run
Interested
Safe
Tough
Athletic

By Jacy
Jockey
Amazing Experience
Crazy Fun
Year Round Athlete

By Brittany
Baseball
Racing
Ice Skating
Tennis
Track
Air Hockey
Nascar
Yoga

By Cameron
Cubs
Atlanta Braves
Mountaineers
Eagles
Rondo
Orlando
New York Yankees

By Adam
Athletic
Dedicated
Astros
Marlins

By Jacob
Junior League
Athletic
Celtics
Obsessive
Baseball Player

By Dana
Dodgers
Athletic
New York Yankees
Astros

By Adriana
Athletic
Dugout
Race
Infield
Awesome
Never Give Up
Amazing

By Luke

Rituals
Crystal Howell

We walk down the street, the napes of our necks pinking in the clear New Mexican sun. The church is modern—white stucco, clean lines—but the talk, dark doors beckon, and we decide to enter.

My eyes register only dimness for a few moments, the cool stone floor absorbing the candles’ small light. I wipe my hand across my face, but the palpable stillness that clouds my vision doesn’t dissipate. My friend, the lapsed Catholic turned yoga devotee, dips her fingers in the grey stone basin before crossing herself. She saunters down the side aisle and stops near the altar, fumbling in her bag for two dollars, enough for the big candle. She’s lighting if for her grandmother—her grandmother who right now, as we head to the flea market, is dying. The sticks to light the candles are stuck in a small urn of sand, but she can’t seem to find them so I reach her one. “Thank you,” she replies, placing the clean white candle on the wooden stand with the others.

This is not my ritual, the calm rhetoric and routine of the rosary. My protestant sense of reality has undone a little of this mystery. But I find two dollars for the box, and line my candle up beside its brothers and sisters. And together they are a choir, a visual song of prayers that I imagine must be beautiful to look on from above