The Swiss, far from the beaches of Normandy, came to see D-Day in a new light.  They found out that the German High Command had decided to withdraw their troops from the Russian front to use them in an invasion of Switzerland in the fall of 1944.  D-Day put an end to those plans, and saved the Swiss, who had relied on their Alpine redoubts and savvy mountain tactics to discourage such foolery. 

They found this out after the war, and speaking to one of my uncles, who was driving an aging Alfa-Romeo, I asked, “What kind of car are you getting for your next one?”

He looked at me with wizened eyes.  “It’s going to be an American car.  Perhaps a Ford.”

How was Switzerland able to outlast WWII so long?  God, in his foreknowledge, provides for all of us, in this  case — the Alps.

The social media have changed our taste in what we read.  Instead of essays or long articles, we now tend to pick out a short blog.  That’s more like the compositions we wrote in high school.  I, too, am part of social media, and I find that’s what goes over best.

Consequently I’ve written to this audience, and have collected a book of blogs (compositions) which should appeal to a portion of the reading public.  I think a publisher who picks this up is in for a surprise in how many people respond to short, pointed literary thoughts pioneered by Facebook and Twitter.

Any literary work is composed of paragraphs, and points are made by composition-sized trains of thought.  Chapters break a book down into manageable paragraphs, the building bricks of a thought edifice.  After reading my book, you’ll be able to speak convincingly.

What happens when you do your duty to God?  How is this compared to when you do your duty to man?  Let’s start with the first.  In the midst of the Covid 19 pandemic, I was relieved of my duty to attend Sunday Mass by God’s representative here on Earth, the Church.  Fait accompli.

Now man’s law requires that I have the car inspected every year.  No big deal, right?  The car’s running well, and I just bought a new set of tires.  Well, they took a bit long with the inspection, for which they didn’t charge me, but guess what my bill for necessary repairs at the end of the day was?  $1,666.00.  That’s called dealing with man.

There was one relieving moment in that bill.  The car company was going to charge me 3% service tax if I used my credit card.  But the service manager, a kind soul, was not going to allow it.  I don’t know how he did it, but I was not charged.  Did he pay the 3% himself?

So you think prayers are seldom, if ever, answered?  The neighbor’s grandson, a newly-minted medical doctor, was recently diagnosed with an aortic tumor, cancer, and his path to being a surgeon was on hold.  My wife asked me to say prayers for him.

I complied, and said two rosaries for that intention.  Weeks went by, and this morning came the news that the suspected aortic artery tumor was benign.  The attending surgeons cut it out, but there was no fear that they didn’t get all of it.

We sometimes are not even aware that a prayer has been answered.  Blanket thanks are in order in our prayers to a Creator who does, contradicting popular credence, interfere in his own creation on occasion.  Our perceptions are not always so accurate.

I was not a skier.  I remembered a sunny winter day in Switzerland, when my mother took the two older boys skiing.  We were on a local hill, and as far as I could see, it was quaint.  But years later, my cousin Heidi came to live with us in the U.S.  She took the initiative, and we three brothers became skiers.

Pico Peak in Vermont, and Hillsdale in New York were names we readily dropped.  We learned from Heidi and professional ski instructors.  On a winter Saturday, it was up at four o’clock in the morning and off to, say, Stowe in Vermont on the Taconic Parkway.  We’d ski all day and find lodgings for the night, leaving for home after Mass and a little skiing on Sunday.

Heidi loved the U.S. Northwest, and fell in love with Navy veteran Bob Eckes there, married him and produced three children for the marriage.  They are all prospering, but Heidi and Bob are gone.