From the Principal's Desk: Reflection on Being Present

Dear Families,

This past week has been one of heartbreak and deep reflection for our Catholic school community. As you know, a tragic act of violence occurred at Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis—an unthinkable event in a place that, like ours, is built on faith, learning, and love.

In times like these, it’s tempting to look for big answers or dramatic gestures. But often, what the world truly needs is something quieter—presence, peace, and the willingness to be with one another in both joy and hardship. Our Catholic faith reminds us that presence matters. That love looks like showing up and being in the moment.

That truth came home to me recently in a quiet, personal way. That evening, I received a simple text from my father, who turned 90 on August 20, and is from Minnesota:

“Just checking in with you. I hope you are doing alright. I know this is very hard for you, and I know you are taking good care of your kids.”

His message was short, but full of care—the kind that stays with you. I replied that I was doing okay, and then asked him if he’d ever been to Annunciation Catholic School, which is only half an hour away from where he grew up.

He answered right away:

“I played basketball there in 1947. I know because we had just gotten our ’47 Dodge, and my dad and another parent drove seven kids and the coach to the school. Also, several of my high school classmates were from there.”

He didn’t comment on who won the game or how many points he scored. What he remembered and chose to share with me, almost 80 years later, was who was present in the car.

What he shared stayed with me. It wasn’t about the scoreboard. It was about the people. The care. The ride. The sense of being part of something bigger than yourself.

I thought, too, of Blessed Solanus Casey—born Bernard “Barney” Casey—who once worked as a prison guard, a lumberjack, and even a streetcar operator before discerning his call to religious life. He was confirmed in the same parish in Minnesota where my father grew up and was confirmed sixty years later—the same parish where I still attend Mass each summer when I return to visit family.

Roots and connections are still strong in that community. My sister now lives in our father’s childhood home, not far from the very neighborhood where Solanus lived a quiet, unassuming life. Today, that church has a stained glass window commemorating his confirmation—a reminder that the blessed are our neighbors and friends.

Blessed Solanus had a gift for meeting people in their pain and in their joy. His steadfast faith was a comfort to all he welcomed. He listened to them, he prayed with them, and he prayed for them. As a porter at the Capuchin Monastery in Detroit, he did not seek attention. Instead, he humbly opened doors—literally and spiritually—for all who came. His constant reminder, “Thank God ahead of time,” reflected his unshakable trust in God’s will. But above all else, he was always there, in the moment, for people.

We are inundated with noise and distractions that make listening to one another—and to God—nearly impossible. The connections we make with our neighbors nowadays seem tenuous and fragile. But truly listening and truly being present are simple, ordinary acts we can take to strengthen those connections to one another and to our Lord.

Presence looks like sitting in the car waiting for your child. It’s sending a quick message to a friend. It’s checking on a loved one when you know they’re having a hard day. It’s holding someone close, listening without distraction, and opening our hearts when someone seeks hope.

These are the small, steady ways peace is built—just as Solanus showed us. People used to come from all over to speak to him because they understood he was listening. He opened doors for them. Imagine what this world could be like if we were all as attentive and welcoming to one another.

Let us be present for one another, and especially for the Annunciation community. Let us hold them in our hearts and in our prayers. And let us also recommit ourselves to being present—to our children, to one another, and to the quiet, grace-filled work of building peace in our schools and in our homes.

Blessed Solanus Casey, pray for us.
Annunciation of the Lord, protect us.
Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, pray for us.
Sincerely,

Kathleen J. Kilty, PhD
Principal