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My fingers furiously flipped through a hardcover edition of Butler’s Lives of the Saints. “Daddy’s original plan” for my kindergartner to be the patron saint of dancers for the All Saints parade had blown up in my face.
Did you know the patron saint of dance is a guy? Neither did I. “You mean, there’s no female saint for dancers?” my daughter, Hope, asked in a quivering voice.
“Well, no, sweetheart, not one I can find. But, um, hey … how about St. Lydwina, the patron saint of ice skaters? You like ice skating, right?” We live in Arizona, and my five-year-old has never ice-skated, but that mattered little. She had seen figure skaters once on television and found the costumes pretty and the movements graceful.
With her reluctant “okay,” plan B had the green light. My wife, Melanie, raced through a trunk of old dance costumes and swiftly transformed one of them into a makeshift skater’s outfit. Thanks to her sewing magic, Hope was, I’m sure, the first saint in the entire communion to…
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