St. Katharine at 60

I learned a lot about St. Katharine last night. She lived to be 96, and she gave away $20 million. I looked up some more information about her this morning, and this is what I found from a website about the Feast of St. Katharine Drexel:

Francis Anthony and Hannah Langstroth Drexel were proud parents of a second daughter Catherine, on November 26, 1858. About one month after Katharine's birth, Hannah passed away. A few years later Katharine's father, a well known banker and philanthropist, married Emma Bouvier. The devoted parents instilled the idea that wealth was meant to be shared with others, especially the poor.

Katharine's traveling experiences throughout the Northwest exposed her to the plight of the Native Americans on the reservations. This gave her the desire to help alleviate their suffering along with the oppressed among the Black people.

When visiting with Pope Leo XIII in Rome, Katharine asked him for missionaries to staff some of the Indian missions that she as a lay person was financing. She was surprised to hear the Pope suggest that she become a missionary herself. Katharine made the decision to give herself totally to God through service to Black and Native Americans.

On February 12, 1891, after her novitiate at the convent of the Sisters of Mercy in Pittsburgh, Katharine made vows as a religious, founding the Sisters of the Blessed Sacrament.

Saint Katharine established many ministries, founding and staffing many schools for both Black and Native Americans, including Xavier University, the only predominantly Black Catholic institution of higher learning in the United States.

In 1935, Saint Katharine suffered a severe heart attack and for the next twenty years lived her life in prayerful retirement until her death on March 3, 1955.

Last night, on March 4, the day after this great American saint's day, I attended a 60th birthday party for another Katharine. She may not have $20 million to give away, but she's certainly given of herself for others in the Northwest for most of her adult life. Her name is Kathy Berkeley, and she's been a good friend ever since our sons (one day apart) played Saturday basketball as seventh graders.

My friend Ann, who hosted the party, found some parallels between our friend Katharine and her saint namesake and chronicled them in a birthday book. Well, I must make it clear that our friend Katharine was NOT named for a saint. Her parents were Presbyterians, and I've been told they weren't great fans of Catholics at the time. Oddly enough, nowadays our friend Katharine can't get away from all of us Catholics, so she just has to deal with it.

Ann's booklet about Kathy told of the good times the two have shared during their long, close friendship, including the evening they spent at a restaurant at Hope that offered "appropriate starch" on the menu. Of course, I tucked away that information, figuring I need to find a time to do some research on which kind of potatoes offer "appropriate starch."

Anyway, last night we mercilessly harassed Ann as she tried to read her carefully-crafted storybook about our friend Katharine. The grand finale of the booklet suggested that Kathy Berkeley is just a young 'un at 60 and that she does need to live up to her non-Presbyterian namesake by hanging in there for another 36 years. As for the $20 million, it's gonna have to come from the lottery cuz it's for sure she's not gonna pull in that wad from her teacher retirement.

I'd like to add my two cents as Kathy tries to accumulate all those millions. As a friend and fellow teacher, I've had the opportunity to see this lady in action. I remember particularly a rather low time a few years ago when some of my students were acting like pills----and, to put it lightly, those pills were not doing a lot to boost my morale level at the time.

Aware of the entire situation from several perspectives, Kathy quietly entered into the fray by writing those pills a letter, injecting some suggestions that they grow up and show a little more respect for their teacher. She must've provided the right antidote because the whole situation improved dramatically almost overnight. I've always held a deep appreciation toward Kathy for having the guts and empathy to stick her neck out like that for a friend.

So, yeah, Kathy, you're 60 now. You've done a lot as a teacher, friend, mommy, and wife to earn your medals for sainthood. And, if you do like Ann suggests and live to be 96, there's a story in this morning's paper, explaining how to make a million. So, dear friend, you've got time.

Happy birthday to my first babyboomer friend to reach the big 6-0.