The Faith Our Parents Gave Us
The Faith Our Parents Gave Us
Pull up a chair and sit awhile
August 10, 2026
Dear Friend:
There are so many memories from our childhood. Some are not so pleasant—standing in the corner, being grounded for a day or two, or even a week. Then there are the happy memories: birthdays, making the team, or finding a new friend.
Some of my most cherished childhood memories are centered around church. The sauerkraut suppers. The beautiful music coming from St. Joseph's pipe organ. Going to Catholic school. Our faith was at the center of our lives.
I remember winters when a snowstorm came late on Saturday and there were no cars moving through the city on Sunday morning. My father would remind us, “There is nothing wrong with your legs.”
That meant we were walking to church.
It wasn't quite the stereotypical, “I walked a mile to school in a blizzard.” We only lived five blocks from church! But not all of the sidewalks had been cleared yet, so no bother—we walked in the street. Along the way, we were joined by other Catholic families walking to church.
Catholics were not the only people living on Cabbage Hill. There were Protestant and Jewish families, and I am sure families of other faiths as well. We all got along just fine. More than that, we looked out for one another.
During the Jewish holidays, Christian workers would make sure their Jewish coworkers could have the time off they needed. The same courtesy was extended in the other direction. We didn't have to share the same faith to respect one another's faith.
In the upstairs hall of my parents' house hung a beautiful crucifix. It had been a wedding gift to my grandparents. When they passed away, the crucifix went to my dad. And now it belongs to me.
Whenever I look at it, I think of my grandfather and my parents. It is a cherished family heirloom—not simply because it is beautiful, but because of the people and the faith that came before me.
But the thing I cherish most is the gift of faith my parents gave me.
That gift was first given to them by my grandparents, and they passed it on to me.
I believe that faith is a gift, no matter what faith you believe. It can connect us to our parents and grandparents, to our childhoods, to our communities, and to something greater than ourselves.
Perhaps the greatest gift our parents can give us is something that cannot be wrapped or placed in a box. It is something they live, something they teach, and something they pass down.
For me, that gift is my Catholic faith.
For someone else, it may be a different faith. And for someone else, it may be a set of beliefs or values that were passed down through their family.
Whatever that gift may be, I believe it is worth cherishing.
What are the memories of faith that you cherish?
Did your parents or grandparents pass a faith, tradition, or belief on to you? I would love to hear your story. Please share it with us.
Until next time, stay well, stay safe, and stay connected to those you love.
Be well,
Emma
Emma is the voice behind Sharing with Seniors, where every story starts with a memory. Through stories of family, friendships, music, traditions, hometowns, and life's simple pleasures, she invites readers to pull up a chair, stay awhile, and remember the moments that have shaped their lives.