I love the spirit and feeling of Bishop Maginn High School, as most of you reading this probably know. The school touches my heart and lifts my soul. They do so much good without complaint or hesitation.

They are the real deal. They never turn their backs on the needy, the hungry, the vulnerable, and the persecuted. They are what religion and humanity are supposed to be all about. The Catholic Church has taken its lumps lately, and for good reasons.

But they can be proud of this high school, it shines through the mist.

It broke my heart to learn that they are shutting down for good, but the teachers and administrators assure me that the spirit is not shutting down, as demonstrated today. This spirit can’t be canceled or closed; it’s moving to a school just outside Albany.

A vast food pallet was misdirected and ended up at the wrong Wal-Mart. I’m not saying how the store reached out to Bishop Maginn to receive and distribute the food, but it was a good choice and a miraculous happening.

First, the food was distributed to the refugee families whose children attend the school and are going to the new one in September.  Students and parents, and alumni rushed to the school to help get the food – a godsend – out to the people who needed it, wherever they were, whatever their faith or ethnicity.

“We were not only able to feed our families,” Sue Silverstein wrote to me, “but we were able to deliver food to the South End Children’s Cafe and the Rescue Mission. As they say, it takes a village, and today was a good day. This is BMHS helping our community!”

That’s what BMHS does and has always done.

Tomorrow, Maria and I will Bishop Maginn to deliver a carload of prom dresses.

Yesterday, someone e-mailed me to scold me for helping to raise $7,000 for the school prom. What would Jesus think? She asked about funding a prom when there is so much suffering? And what would the people living in poverty think?

I deleted the message; I’m frankly tired of people sending messages like that. I’m learning.

These are the people living in poverty; they are the ones who are suffering. And this prom is what they most wanted now, and badly at that, they are at a crossroads in their lives.

They’d lost so much of their childhood between civil war, genocide, family, war, and Covid. They didn’t want to lose this, a finale to what has been the best part of their short and demanding lives.

Jesus doesn’t talk to me, and I don’t know what he might say or think.  I try to follow his call, but I don’t bow to him or seek approval. Like him, I prefer to follow my own will.

I do not doubt that he would greatly approve of the Army Of Good and the incredible work that it has done.  In many ways, he inspired it. This work is precisely what he called for from on the Mount.

I don’t tell these children what to want, most of whom have lived through Hell.  It works the other way. They tell me what they want, and if it is legal and heartfelt and the teachers approve, I get it.

They wanted a special prom to say goodbye to the school and give thanks for it, together for the last time.

That’s all I needed to hear.

Nobody else, including me, has the right to tell them what to want. This school has meant the world to them – for some, it’s been life and death, food and blankets, shoes and sweaters, love and learning – and they have the right to say farewell in any way they wish.

Sue Silverstein and the staff have been there for these children at every turn, and they fully supported their wish for a memorable prom. It’s for them too.

I am very proud we made this prom happen; it was in great doubt. And I can’t wait to see them when the gowns arrive. That will be a heart melt.

Thanks again to Tania Woodward and the Mansion for gathering these gowns. Very few of these girls could have afforded to buy them. Sue says they are very excited about them.

I gather the students will steer some of the leftover money to local food banks and other programs, but that is their business, not mine. Their prom is pretty modest at that.

My mission is to help them get it, and I now see how important and uplifting these gowns are.

I’m excited about tomorrow. This is an extraordinary place, and these are extraordinary children. What a joy and privilege it has been for me to work with this school and support the excellent work they do every day.

And thanks,  Bishop Maginn, for living your faith once more.