Giving

My Saint Michael’s Story: Melanie Audette

Posted by on Sun, Nov 1, 2020 in Giving

I’m Melanie Audette and this is my St. Michael’s story. Think for a moment of the person who first taught you to pray. For me, this was my Grandma Pat. And it was Mrs. Finnegan, a neighbor, who confirmed my faith – oddly through a little service on her living room floor after a Bible study. Who was that person for you?

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My Saint Michael’s Story: Michele Adams

Posted by on Sun, Oct 25, 2020 in Giving

My husband, Ben and I are pretty new to the St. Michael’s community. I had been seeking a new spiritual home for a couple of years, and I believe, it is divinely inspired how my husband and I found St. Michael’s.

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My Saint Michael’s Story: Joe Hannan

Posted by on Sun, Oct 18, 2020 in Giving

Sit quietly and pray, that is what the Nuns would tell me when I was younger. For most of my life I thought that being spiritual required a person to be sitting in silence and praying. For those of you who know me sitting silently for more than a few seconds – well let’s just say it’s like mixing oil and water.

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My Saint Michael’s Story: Tina Blondino

Posted by on Sun, Oct 11, 2020 in Giving

I, as all of us, have had a wide fluctuation of feelings during this pandemic. St. Michael’s, church, our community – all have helped center and stabilize me. I look forward to Sunday and usually get a little dressed up to “go to church.”

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My Saint Michael’s Story: Anita Donahou

Posted by on Sun, Oct 27, 2019 in Giving

I am a cradle, “always have been, always will be” Episcopalian. Historically, Episcopalians don’t speak openly about their faith journey, so please bear with me. Our family came to St. Michael’s 17 years ago. We had visited several Episcopal churches after moving to the Eastside, and St. Michael’s felt comfortable and familiar; best of all, our children were welcomed by the kids here. Never underestimate the power of kids!

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My Saint Michael’s Story: Carol Chipman

Posted by on Sun, Oct 27, 2019 in Giving

When I was a child, my parents “made” me go to Sunday School. I couldn’t understand why, because they chose not to go to church themselves. When I was 12, they told me I didn’t have to go to church anymore if I didn’t want to, so I didn’t. Fast forward to when I was pregnant with my son Gabriel, and a coworker and I were talking about our plans for the Christmas holiday. Out of the blue, she sheepishly asked me to explain to her the story of Jesus’ birth, since she had never had it told to her. I was shocked, because I assumed everybody knew about that particular story, even if they had never gone to church. So I decided that when my son was a little older, I would do exactly what my parents had done to me, and send him to Sunday School, only this time his parents would go with him, of course. I finally realized that having the foundation for a Christian faith, even though I hadn’t attended church for a long time, was a source of strength and comfort that I would not otherwise have had, so thank you Mum and Dad, and I wanted that same foundation for my son.

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