#i wonder what Matt did that sent him to a seminary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kimmiherself · 3 years

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CHAPTER TWO: THE BEGINNING

It was almost the end of the first half of the school year. Examinations were coming up. Projects piling up. As the editor-in-chief, I still hadn't finished working on our school paper, which was almost due for release. School activities were also lining up, waiting to be planned. To my friends' distaste, I also became the president of our student organization. We all knew I wasn't the best candidate for the position, but I won anyway. My small group of friends at school thought I was kind of immature and way too emotional—definitely a cry-baby—to handle a responsibility as big as that, considering I had to lead the entire high school. Well, I didn't believe I was immature but I had to agree I was a little sensitive, but the points to my grades mattered so much to me that I couldn't care less.

It was barely noon and my morning classes weren't finished yet, but there I was, lying uncomfortably in one of the beds in the school clinic, bothered by both the warm compress the nurse laid over my lower abdomen and the pain it was trying to relieve. I loathed the cramps that came with the monthly visits. When your stomach felt like it was being twisted into knots and being squeezed out of its life, it could do more than dampen one's day. But if I were to look at more tasks left unticked in my notepad, I'd rather embrace the physical pain and thank the heavens for the blessing in disguise. I badly needed the break.

The pain had been coming and going for the last hour but it sure was becoming more and more bearable each passing minute. And I was starting to get bored too. I tried sleeping but it wasn't working at all so I settled with fiddling with the mobile device in my hands. It wasn't the hottest cellphone in the market but it was a gift from my father and was better than most of my classmates'. It had a built-in camera that I barely used. I tried taking photos of myself in private a couple of times but I never learned to like any of them. In fact, I cringed at those horrible selfies. I filled my gallery with girlish wallpapers and cute GIFs instead. It also didn't have an MP3 player like the very high-end ones but it had ringtones of some of my favorite love songs, enough to entertain me.

But that day it seemed like nothing was working for me. I went to check my inbox for unread messages. There was none. I scanned through them and found Matthew's long list of sweet messages that I'd like to read over and over again, along with some inspirational quotes from my friends. One text caught my attention, though. It simply said hello but it lacked the appropriate punctuation mark and the first letter wasn't even capitalized. Coming from an unknown number, it was weird that I hadn't deleted it yet. I knew texts needed not to have proper structure and grammar but I still preferred it that way. Matthew didn't have a problem with that since he was also as particular as me in that department.

I'd barely respond to unknown numbers, especially if their texts looked stupid and offensive to my eyes—grammar-wise, that was why I was so surprised with myself when I typed, "I don't usually talk to strangers, but who are you?" and sent it back to that unknown number.

I really wasn't expecting anything from that number and started sending Matthew some messages next. I missed talking to him. He mostly never responded to my messages and I couldn't even call him. I'd hate to take so much of his time that I hardly ever called and I especially hated it when the calls got rejected. Aside from having a hectic schedule, Matthew needed money and he couldn't always afford to buy prepaid load for his phone. And I understood that. I just really missed him. When I bought him prepaid load one time, it just didn't end well for me. I probably even offended him. So I learned to wait...and wait.

My phone suddenly chimed.

1 new message received flashed on my screen.

I readjusted my back so I could settle comfortably and quickly pressed the ok button, hoping to see Matthew's reply.

It wasn't his.

"Not a stranger, just Raven Maude," I read the text from the unknown number. Scrunching my nose, I typed, "I'll decide on that," and paused, thinking where I heard that name. "Well, I know one Maude. Her name's Cathy." We didn't go to the same high school but Cathy's from my village and everyone around there seemed to just know each other. One of my friends from the village had a crush on her too so whenever we met, she was almost always part of our conversations.

I barely waited when my phone chimed again. Surely, it was from the stranger. It said, "She's actually my little sister. Jeje..."

I cringed at the last part of his text. Emojis weren't a thing yet in 2007 so you really had to spell out your laughs in texts, but I preferred h for haha or hehe over their j counterparts. The latter bothered me a lot. Wait...did he just say she was his sister? "Huh," I puffed out. He just pointed out two things. One, he couldn't be a total stranger when I knew one of his kin. Two, I was a moron thinking I knew everyone in my village.

I tried to picture him out in my head. Although petite, Cathy was pretty good-looking so he couldn't have deviated that far if they were truly siblings. Then I remembered there was one time, a few years ago, some of those kids in the village talked about Cathy's brother, whose name I didn't even care to know, and they giggled as they did so. I was curious for like five seconds and went on with my life. I never even got to see his face. It's weird how we never bumped into each other in the village until now.

"Really? Small world," I started typing my reply. "By the way, where did you get my number?" I asked, not at all amused that someone shared my personal information without my permission.

He said it was Marie, another common friend of ours from the village. "I saw you with her and your other friends in the plaza a few weeks ago. I asked her for your number. I hope you don't mind...with your aversion to strangers and all."

I rolled my eyes but decided to let go of that comment. Indeed, there was a recent community event in the village square and I was invited by Marie and her group to perform one dance with them. I hadn't caught on the steps yet and I was lucky the lights went out and didn't get to perform in the end. It sure would be embarrassing especially now that I learned there was someone behind those throng of expectators whose eyes were on me for at least a moment.

"It's fine. You're only half a stranger after all," I said, without fully meaning it. I looked at his first message once again and realized it had been sitting there on my phone for a few weeks now. I wondered if he thought I was a snob. Not that it mattered. I knew this was just a hi-and-bye encounter, just two people who belonged to the same community nodding at each other's way to acknowledge their existence.

My phone chimed yet again. "Good. Now we're friends."

********************************************

Raven didn't warn me how clingy he was for a friend. We sent each other messages more than friends usually did—at least, more than I texted my friends. We easily got past awkward introductions and dove right into casual conversations that had started to become a routine. Mornings started with greetings and ended with, "Have you had your lunch yet?" Nights were filled with a cannonade of questions about each other and always ended with either a good-night or a sleep-well.

I knew it was unfair of me to compare Matthew with Raven but I couldn't help but wonder how amazing it would be if my boyfriend showed me as much attention as Raven did. I sighed, reminding myself that Matthew was not just a college student but also a part-time employee of a fastfood chain, which implied he had way more important things to do than waste time on his phone. Besides, he asked me to give him time and wait for us to be together; I shouldn't be feeling resentful. But talking to Raven had been a pleasant experience and, though I still missed my boyfriend, my nights had started to become less lonely than they used to be.

By the end of the week, I learned that Raven was a freshman in college in the same city as Matt's. He wanted to become either a civil engineer or a seafarer but, by his mother's persuasion, ended up taking a two-year course in Hotel and Restaurant Management. He said his mother thought his aim was too high. He didn't graduate at the top of his class in high school but he wasn't dumb either. It's a shame he didn't even get to try it out.

I learned that Raven didn't have a favorite color and that was weird. Who didn't have a favorite color? Like even the slightest bias to one or two? Raven just didn't think it mattered. He liked playing the guitar, though. In fact, he just bought one, out of his savings from his school allowance and other sidelines. He didn't mention he worked part-time so I wondered what those were.

Raven also talked about basketball, saying it's that one thing he really was passionate about. I knew nothing about it and thought it was crazy to go home almost every weekend for a game or two. Basketball leagues, according to him, topped the sports activities in our district. Leagues were hosted everywhere and Raven and his team wouldn't dare miss one. He even mentioned he would've been in the seminary already instead of his current school if that one big game didn't fall on the same day as his departure. It appalled me how he could just easily make big decisions and outright change plans just to suit his schedule. It was so not my cup of tea.

"It's funny, you know," Raven said once over the phone.

"What?"

"That you say you've never seen me when we've had several encounters already."

That piqued my curiosity. "Really? I don't recall ever meeting you."

"No, you haven't," he said. "But when you were little—we were little, I used to see you with your uncle all the time in their farm. I'm friends with his nephews, you know."

"Really?" I gasped. I hoped he didn't catch me in those moments when I was stuffing my mouth with so much fruit that I could barely chew them, because the food was all the reason why I stuck around my uncle and their family's farm. But who could resist fruits, right, especially my favorites, Durian and Rambutan?

"And we also used to play basketball in front of your house. There's like a makeshift basketball ring there, if you haven't noticed. Whenever you came home from your school, you would just walk right in front of us—with that gigantic luggage you call your school bag, your head always down, never looking at anyone."

That made me chuckle. "I'm sorry I'm such a snob," I replied, feigning remorse. "I'm just not comfortable walking through a crowd." A crowd of boys, especially. I just tried to be as invisible as I could be. I knew I would just embarrass myself like tripping over or something if I knew someone was looking at me. I just knew it. Yes, I was a dancer and I performed on stage with enough confidence and grace, but as soon as the performance ended, I quickly went back to being shy, awkward, and clumsy.

"It's funny how you squirmed whenever the ball rolled towards your feet," he said with a laugh.

"It's called a reflex, Raven!" I exclaimed, shuddering at the recollection. I didn't have any phobia with balls but I couldn't help but picture my impending demise whenever it came near me, considering my rather inept ability of handling surprises. I just knew that a time would come when I'd finally trip over that evil orb and fall down on my knees, my white skirt uniform flying over my head and showing my bum, and everyone would just laugh at me. I shuddered at the thought. "Everything would be fine as long as the ball and I kept our distance from each other," I whispered to myself.

Raven didn't seem to hear that. "You never noticed how the world would seem to stop whenever you walked past us, do you?"

I snorted, but I felt the heat creep up my cheeks. "Now you're just being silly, Mr. Raven Maude!"

"Seriously, Kier..." My name just sounded a little strange coming from him. But not in a creepy way. It just sounded a little soft and sweet and it made me feel a little warm and fuzzy. Great! I rolled my eyes at the thought. "A lot of boys like you, Kiera." He paused then added, "But we all know you're like the stars...twinkling at us from up the sky but impossible to reach."

"Yeah, right..." I chuckled nervously, pushing away the thoughts that came flooding with the we and us from his last statement. "You're just exagerrating things, Raven, because that's not probable. They don't even know me and, mind you, no one has ever asked me out." Even at school, no one really shows interest in me...well, except for Aaron, but he's already moved on to the next girl.

"That's the thing, Kier. You're different from the rest of the girls. Everyone knows you're that pretty, smart, and talented girl—who barely comes down from her castle to mingle with us, commoners," he paused to chuckle. "But no one really knows you. You're like a mystery waiting to be solved," he continued, causing tiny drums to start playing inside my chest. "But everyone's scared of the unknown, so..."

"So everyone's scared of me?" I said, laughing.

He laughed too, then paused for a while before saying, "I'm not."

I didn't know when or how but those tiny drums were now accompanied by other instruments that my chest had morphed into a grand venue for an elaborate orchestra. And it was overwhelming. Too overwhelming that I started to feel nauseated. What am I doing? I didn't know if it could be called flirting but Raven and I were becoming more than casual friends. And this most definitely wasn't a hi-and-bye encounter! I realized I had been responding to his messages all too eagerly and began looking forward to those everytime my phone beeped. I also didn't have a problem answering to his phone calls even at school. I knew Matthew wouldn't be too thrilled about this new friend of mine, especially if he knew he never really surfaced in our conversations. I was a terrible liar and I wouldn't deliberately lie. It's just that Raven never asked me about having a boyfriend. And I never did ask him too. A girlfriend, I meant. I didn't ask him if he had a girlfriend. We were just being friendly to each other and there was no harm in that. And I thought it was probably just me and my obsession with love stories that I had started thinking about a budding romance between the two of us. I was probably just reading too much into things.

********************************************

Semestral break was now days ahead, just the breather that I needed. Examinations were almost done and there I was with the group of dancers at my school, practicing for our presentation to be showcased during the opening of the week-long inter-school sports competition for next month. Dancing was what I loved, next to reading books and sketching portraits. I'd easily get lost to music and beautiful movements. It made me feel free. And nothing was more freeing than dancing contemporary under a new choreographer for the event, which was a challenge that my group and I accepted wholeheartedly. Plus, I couldn't play sports. I was clumsy that I'd either miss serving a volleyball or get hit in the face with a basketball. The only way I could get those points from sports events was through cheering and dancing.

When we had had enough pirouettes and toe touch jumps, my friends and I slumped into the floor to rest. "I can't wait for the semestral break," most of them murmured. I also looked forward to creeping into my bed without body aches and waking up without a worry in the world. Just as my heartbeat started slowing down from racing and my sweats stopped pouring, my cellphone rang.

I turned rigid. I didn't have many people calling me. There's just my mom, actually. Matthew barely even texted. And there's...Raven.

My heart raced once again as I rummaged through my bag to look for my phone. When I finally found it, he really didn't disappoint. I ran outside the room to answer his call, my friends' curious eyes on me.

"Hi," I said through ragged breaths. When I realized Raven and I had been constantly on the phone to text each other, I tried to pull back and refocused my attention to school and Matthew. I hadn't heard from him for a while and this was so unexpected it kind of made me all flushed. I tried to sound a little less excited but I couldn't help my lips from twitching into a full-blown smile.

"Hello, Kiera..." he answered, his voice just as rasped and as sweet as I remembered it. It was weird that I could imagine him smiling behind that voice. And I hadn't even seen him yet. "Where are you?"

"School," I answered shortly.

"Isn't it your semestral break already?" he asked, his voice still making me feel all the fuzzy feelings I first had with Matthew.

I shook my head but felt stupid for doing it over the phone. "Not yet. I still have a couple of days or so. Why do you ask?"

I heard him chuckle. "I'm going home, Kier."

"Y-Yeah?" I murmured, my heart now beating erratically. I didn't know why but the thought of this person, whom I had shared a lot of conversations with over the phone for the last few weeks, coming home and probably wanting to see me felt like a really bad idea but one I still wanted to succumb to. "So you're done with your first semester in college?"

"Absolutely, maam," he said in a more playful tone. "And I can't wait to go home..."

He dragged his last word that I thought he still had something else to say, but there was nothing. I was glad our conversations still remained completely platonic and innocent. "That's great, Rave. Congratulations!"

"Thanks!" I imagined him grinning as he said that.

"So when is this great homecoming?"

He chuckled. "Soon," he said. "I'll see you when I see you."

I laughed too. "Sure," I answered. "I'll see you when I see you too."

The call didn't last long. He only wanted to say he was coming home and it left me feeling weak on the knees. I was scared of seeing him, of fully realizing that he was a real person and not just a figment of my imagination...and that I had been entertaining someone else, even if it was hardly romantic, behind Matthew's back. My excitement died down a little.

I went back to the room, my head still wrapped up around Raven's impending homecoming. I didn't realize what my face looked like until André, my gay best friend, shot me a curious look and asked, "What's with that grinning face? It's annoying!" I went to him and slumped giddily beside him. "Who was that?"

"Matthew..." I answered with a slight shrug of my shoulders.

"Uh-huh? If you say so," he said, his eyes still pierced on mine, telling me what a terrible liar I was.

Nobody knew about Raven because I didn't want my friends telling me that what I was doing was wrong especially when there was really nothing between Raven and I. I knew they wouldn't believe that. Even I have my doubts too. But Raven and I never crossed a line, which was what really mattered, and his presence in my life was a breath of fresh air I didn't realize I was craving so much. And again, I might have been just imagining things that weren't really there. Raven was a college student who probably had a lot of beautiful college girls flocking around him. He might even have a girlfriend waiting for him too. I just knew him through our text messages and calls but I didn't really know him that much. I was stupid to think of anything other than a platonic relationship between us but it also somehow felt disappointing, which scared me a lot because that would be validating I somehow felt something for him. Even just a little. And it would crush Matthew.

Oh, Matthew...

I had never been more guilty in my life.

#novel writing #love story #romance

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pamphletstoinspire · 7 years

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Saint Vincent de Paul - Feast Day: July 20th - Latin Calendar - September 27th - Ordinary Time

" I was hungry and you gave me food; thirsty and you gave me drink; a stranger and you welcomed me; naked and you clothed me; sick and you cared for me; in prison and you visited me." - (Matt 25: 35-36)

On returning to France he went to Avignon to the papal vice-legate, whom he followed to Rome to continue his studies. He was sent back to France in 1609, on a secret mission to Henry IV; he became almoner to Queen Marguerite of Valois, and was provided with the little Abbey of Saint-Léonard-de-Chaume. At the request of M. de Berulle, founder of the Oratory, he took charge of the parish of Clichy near Paris, but several months later (1612) he entered the services of the Gondi, an illustrious French family, to educate the children of PhilippeEmmanuel de Gondi. He became the spiritual director of Mme de Gondi.

With her assistance he began giving missions on her estates; but to escape the esteem of which he was the object he left the Gondi and with the approval of M. de Berulle had himself appointed curé of Châtillon-les-Dombes (Bresse), where he converted several Protestants and founded the first conference of charity for the assistance of the poor. He was recalled by the Gondi and returned to them (1617) five months later, resuming the peasant missions. Several learned Parish priests, won by his example, joined him. Nearly everywhere after each of these missions, a conference of charity was founded for the relief of the poor, notably at Joigny, Châlons, Mâcon, Trévoux, where they lasted until the Revolution.

Their moral state was still more frightful than their physical misery. Vincent wished to ameliorate both. Assisted by a priest, he began visiting the galley convicts of Paris, speaking kind words to them, doing them every manner of service however repulsive. He thus won their hearts, converted many of them, and interested in their behalf several persons who came to visit them.

A house was purchased where Vincent established a hospital. Appointed by Louis XIII royal almoner of the galleys, Vincent visited the galleys of Marseilles where the convicts were as unfortunate as at Paris; he lavished his care on them and also planned to build them a hospital; but this he could only do ten years later. Meanwhile, he gave on the galley of Bordeaux, as on those of Marseilles, a mission which was crowned with success (1625). Congregation of the Mission. The good wrought everywhere by these missions together with the urging of Mme de Gondi decided Vincent to found his religious institute of priests vowed to the evangelization of country people—the Congregation of Priests of the Mission.

Experience had quickly revealed to St. Vincent that the good done by the missions in country places could not last unless there were priests to maintain it and these were lacking at that time in France. Since the Council of Trent the bishops had been endeavoring to found seminaries to form them, but these seminaries encountered many obstacles, the chief of which were the wars of religion. Of twenty founded not ten had survived till 1625.

They were first distributed singly in the various parishes where the conferences were established and they visited the poor with these ladies of the conferences, or when necessary, cared for them during their absence. In recruiting, forming, and directing these servants of the poor, Vincent found able assistance in Mlle Legras. When their number increased he grouped them into a community under her direction. Coming himself every week to hold a conference suitable to their condition.

Besides the Daughters of Charity Vincent de Paul secured for the poor the services of the Ladies of Charity, at the request of the Archbishop of Paris. He grouped (1634) under the name some pious women who were determined to nurse the sick poor entering the Hotel-Dieu to the number of 20,000 or 25,000 annually; they also visited the prisons. Among them were as many as 200 ladies of the highest rank.

After having drawn up their rule St. Vincent upheld and stimulated their charitable zeal. It was due to them that he was able to collect the enormous sums which he distributed in aid of all the unfortunates. Among the works, which their co-operation enabled him to undertake, that of the care of foundlings was one of the most important. Some of the foundlings at this period were deliberately deformed by miscreants anxious to exploit public pity. Others were received into a municipal asylum called "la couche", but often they were ill-treated or allowed to die of hunger. The Ladies of Charity began by purchasing twelve children drawn by lot who were installed in a special house confided to the Daughters of Charity and four nurses. Thus years later the number of children reached 4000; their support cost 30,000 livres; soon with the increase in the number of children this reached 40,000 livres.

With the assistance of a generous unknown who placed at his disposal the sum of 10,000 livres, Vincent founded the Hospice of the Name of Jesus, where forth old people of both sexes found a shelter and work suited to their condition. This is the present hospital of the uncurables. Vincent did more than anyone for the realization of what has been called one of the greatest works of charity of the seventeenth century, the sheltering of 40,000 poor in an asylum where they would be given a useful work. St. Vincent attached the Daughters of Charity to the work and supported it with all his strength.

Vincent’s exterior life so fruitful in works had its source in a profound spirit of religion and in an interior life of wonderful intensity. He was singularly faithful to the duties of his state, careful to obey the suggestions of faith and piety, devoted to prayer, meditation, and all religious and ascetic exercises. Of practical and prudent mind, he left nothing to chance; his distrust of himself was equaled only by his trust in Providence; when he founded the Congregation of the Mission and the Sisters of Charity he refrained from giving them fixed constitutions beforehand; it was only after tentative, trials, and long experience that he resolved in the last years of his life to give them definitive rules. His zeal for souls knew no limit; all occasions were to him opportunities to exercise it. When he died the poor of Paris lost their best friend and humanity a benefactor unsurpassed in modern times.

His bones have been encased in a waxen figure which is displayed in a glass reliquary in the chapel of the headquarters of the Vincentian fathers in Paris. His heart is still incorrupt, and is displayed in a reliquary in the chapel of the motherhouse of the Sisters of Charity in Paris.

#st. vincent de paul

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theresidentnews · 5 years

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LOS ANGELES – Amy Holden Jones isn’t exactly a household name in Western New York.

But the 1971 Buffalo Seminary graduate’s medical series set in Atlanta, “The Resident,” has entered more WNY households than any other Fox scripted drama series this season.

“Really, I did not know that,” Jones said at a Fox party last month.

The success of "The Resident" here is understandable since Buffalo loves hospital shows. ABC’s “The Good Doctor” and “Grey’s Anatomy,” and NBC’s “New Amsterdam” and “Chicago Med” are among the most-watched programs here.

“Of course, it has a lot of hospitals, right,” Jones said.

Jones co-created the Monday series starring Matt Czuchry (“The Good Wife”), Emily VanCamp (“Everwood”) and Bruce Greenwood that focuses on the good and bad practices in medicine.

Her medical expertise is partly the product of being the daughter of a late Roswell Park cancer researcher, Dr. Ralph Jones.

Jones also credits Buffalo Seminary – her best friend there was Lauren Belfer (“City of Lights”) and they keep in touch – with having an influential impact on her life.

“Buffalo Seminary was a fantastic place for me,” Jones said. “It was almost a salvation for me. It was very good for me to go to an all-girls school and in that era – the 70s – it was really hard for women. ... It provided a world we could run and control.”

She was the photography editor of the yearbook, the head of the court of conduct and vice president of the student council.

“We did a lot of stuff that was very empowering,” she said. “I still feel very attached to some of the people at the Seminary.”

Missed diagnosis

The missed diagnosis of her own back problems more than 15 years ago also had a big influence on her writing medical shows. She said her internist sent her to physical therapy. After six months, the pain got so bad she couldn’t lean back. She headed to Google, read there was no such thing as mid-back pain, had an X-ray taken that revealed there was nothing wrong with her back and sought another opinion from “a great diagnostician.”

“He quickly figured out I had pleurisy – which is an infection of the lining of the lung, which is very painful – that caused back pain,” she explained. “Following that, I became interested in how common missed diagnosis is. The realization all the first doctor had to do was listen to my lungs, but doctors don’t do much anymore besides write a prescription and send you to a specialist.”

She read several books about medicine that emphasized the field is driven more and more by expensive tests rather than face-to-face time.

“My father had always said diagnosis comes from the physical exam and taking a very careful history with the patients,” she said.

She concluded that if her first doctor had asked, she would have told him she just had a bad flu and he might have realized it lingered in the form of an infection of the lining in the lung.

A successful screenwriter with a resume that includes “Mystic Pizza,” “Indecent Proposal” and “Beethoven” (one of her favorites), Jones decided she wanted to write a medical series around 2003 when the film business was changing, and television was becoming more interesting.

She was asked if she’d like to write a show in one of the four most popular TV genres – a detective show, a cop show, a medical show or a lawyer show.

“I said I’d like to write a medical detective show,” Jones said. “It was because my father had a floor at Roswell Park with other doctors as they did cancer research. He was a very good diagnostician. … He dealt with people who nobody could find a diagnosis, which is more common than people realize.”

Breaking through

Her first TV pilot was called “The 17th Floor,” a floor designed to diagnose impossible diseases. She said she sold it to CBS, which didn’t want to make it, but wouldn’t let it go to NBC when it tried to buy it.

When the medical drama “House” premiered in 2004 with a similar concept, Jones said her show became obsolete.

She learned some lessons in the process of her medical show being declared dead.

“The game of getting a show on the air is heavily rigged in favor of people who already have shows on the air,” she said. “They know those people can deliver. There is a male-female quality to it, too. At least there was at that time period. Very few shows were created by women on the major networks. So I kept fighting that fight.”

She wrote a medical series in 2008, “HMS,” about Harvard Medical School for the CW that didn’t make it past the pilot stage.

“They picked up a different pilot that did not test well that was about cheerleaders,” she lamented.

She did get a 2014 ABC summer series, “Black Box,” on the air about a brain doctor who was bipolar that was “somewhat inspired by stuff related to my father.”

“My father was bipolar and it was controlled with lithium very well,” she explained. “I think people didn’t realize bipolar is a very treatable form of mental illness.”

'The Resident'

“The Resident” came about after a representative of film director Antoine Fuqua (“Training Day,” “The Equalizer”) called and said Fuqua wanted to do a show about a big city hospital “where there are things that go bad as well as things that go well.”

Jones’ response: “I’m the person for you.”

She sold the concept for “The Resident” to Showtime, but the pay-cable network passed. The show was immediately picked up by Fox.

“It has evolved somewhat since the pilot to be much more – it was originally about the young residents who were trying to change medicine and the good doctors trying to make it better,” Jones said. “I’m very aware of how many wonderful physicians there are who want this situation to change.”

A big story line over the first season involved the reluctance of Greenwood’s character to admit his surgical skills were declining while Czuchry’s character felt Greenwood’s character was jeopardizing the lives of patients.

“This year’s second season became much more about the corruption of money in medicine,” Jones said. “The first season was more about this problem that does exist … there are very bad doctors out there and there is almost nothing to stop them, which is kind of ridiculous.”

“Bruce’s character was not unremitting evil, but he was bad,” Jones said. “He is still bad, but not quite as bad as he was. Now he is more money driven. We made him the chief executive officer to make it more about the money, which is a much bigger problem than individually bad doctors. Those are more rare, though they do exist.”

Buffalo memories

Jones has lived in Los Angeles for 35 years, having met her husband, cinematographer Michael Chapman, when they were both working on Martin Scorsese’s “Taxi Driver.”

She remains a big fan of Buffalo, having moved here when she was 11 years old and living on Cleveland Avenue in the city.

“I think it is one of those cities that I would personally love to live now,” Jones said. “It doesn’t have an over-the-top population, but has an out-sized arts scene, university scene, symphony, art gallery, music. Everything happening without being an overwhelming size.’”

Is there any chance she’d throw something in a script about Buffalo?

“I certainly can try,” Jones said. “We are about to do a snowed-in episode. I could probably mention, ‘What is this, Buffalo?’”

That probably would be greeted as happily as back pain.

#the resident #the resident on fox #theresidentnews #amy holden jones #the resident interviews #buffalo news

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pamphletstoinspire · 7 years

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Saint Vincent de Paul - Feast Day: July 19th (Latin Calendar)

I was hungry and you gave me food; thirsty and you gave me drink; a stranger and you welcomed me; naked and you clothed me; sick and you cared for me; in prison and you visited me." - (Matt 25: 35-36)

Vincent was born in Gascony, France, in 1581, though some authorities have said 1576. He was born of a peasant family, he made his humanities studies at Dax with the Cordeliers, and his theological studies, interrupted by a short stay at Saragossa, were made at Toulouse where he graduated in theology. Ordained in 1600 he remained at Toulouse or in its vicinity acting as tutor while continuing his own studies. Brought to Marseille for an inheritance, he was returning by sea in 1605 when Turkish pirates captured him and took him to Tunis. He was sold as a slave, but escaped in 1607 with his master, a renegade whom he converted. On returning to France he went to Avignon to the papal vice-legate, whom he followed to Rome to continue his studies. He was sent back to France in 1609, on a secret mission to Henry IV; he became almoner to Queen Marguerite of Valois, and was provided with the little Abbey of Saint-Léonard-de-Chaume. At the request of M. de Berulle, founder of the Oratory, he took charge of the parish of Clichy near Paris, but several months later (1612) he entered the services of the Gondi, an illustrious French family, to educate the children of Philippe Emmanuel de Gondi. He became the spiritual director of Mme de Gondi. With her assistance he began giving missions on her estates; but to escape the esteem of which he was the object he left the Gondi and with the approval of M. de Berulle had himself appointed curé of Châtillon-les-Dombes (Bresse), where he converted several Protestants and founded the first conference of charity for the assistance of the poor. He was recalled by the Gondi and returned to them (1617) five months later, resuming the peasant missions. Several learned Parish priests, won by his example, joined him. Nearly everywhere after each of these missions, a conference of charity was founded for the relief of the poor, notably at Joigny, Châlons, Mâcon, Trévoux, where they lasted until the Revolution.

After the poverty of the country, Vincent’s solicitude was directed towards the convicts in the galleys, who were subject to M. de Gondi as general of the galleys of France. Before being convoyed aboard the galleys or when illness compelled them to disembark, the condemned convicts were crowded with chains on their legs onto damp dungeons, their only food being black bread and water, while they were covered with vermin and ulcers. Their moral state was still more frightful than their physical misery. Vincent wished to ameliorate both. Assisted by a priest, he began visiting the galley convicts of Paris, speaking kind words to them, doing them every manner of service however repulsive. He thus won their hearts, converted many of them, and interested in their behalf several persons who came to visit them. A house was purchased where Vincent established a hospital. Appointed by Louis XIII royal almoner of the galleys, Vincent visited the galleys of Marseilles where the convicts were as unfortunate as at Paris; he lavished his care on them and also planned to build them a hospital; but this he could only do ten years later. Meanwhile, he gave on the galley of Bordeaux, as on those of Marseilles, a mission which was crowned with success (1625). Congregation of the Mission. The good wrought everywhere by these missions together with the urging of Mme de Gondi decided Vincent to found his religious institute of priests vowed to the evangelization of country people—the Congregation of Priests of the Mission.

Vincent established the Daughters of Charity. At first they were intended to assist the conferences of charity. When these conferences were established at Paris (1629) the ladies who joined them readily brought their alms and were willing to visit the poor, but it often happened that they did not know how to give them care which their conditions demanded and they sent their servants to do what was needful in their stead. Vincent conceived the idea of enlisting good young women for this service of the poor. They were first distributed singly in the various parishes where the conferences were established and they visited the poor with these ladies of the conferences, or when necessary, cared for them during their absence. In recruiting, forming, and directing these servants of the poor, Vincent found able assistance in Mlle Legras. When their number increased he grouped them into a community under her direction. Coming himself every week to hold a conference suitable to their condition. Besides the Daughters of Charity Vincent de Paul secured for the poor the services of the Ladies of Charity, at the request of the Archbishop of Paris. He grouped (1634) under the name some pious women who were determined to nurse the sick poor entering the Hotel-Dieu to the number of 20,000 or 25,000 annually; they also visited the prisons. Among them were as many as 200 ladies of the highest rank. After having drawn up their rule St. Vincent upheld and stimulated their charitable zeal. It was due to them that he was able to collect the enormous sums which he distributed in aid of all the unfortunates. Among the works, which their co-operation enabled him to undertake, that of the care of foundlings was one of the most important. Some of the foundlings at this period were deliberately deformed by miscreants anxious to exploit public pity. Others were received into a municipal asylum called "la couche", but often they were ill-treated or allowed to die of hunger. The Ladies of Charity began by purchasing twelve children drawn by lot who were installed in a special house confided to the Daughters of Charity and four nurses. Thus years later the number of children reached 4000; their support cost 30,000 livres; soon with the increase in the number of children this reached 40,000 livres.

With the assistance of a generous unknown who placed at his disposal the sum of 10,000 livres (French equivalent of the English Pound), Vincent founded the Hospice of the Name of Jesus, where forth old people of both sexes found a shelter and work suited to their condition. This is the present hospital of the uncurables. Vincent did more than anyone for the realization of what has been called one of the greatest works of charity of the seventeenth century, the sheltering of 40,000 poor in an asylum where they would be given a useful work. St. Vincent attached the Daughters of Charity to the work and supported it with all his strength.

Vincent died on 27 September 1660 (aged 79) Paris, France. His body was exhumed in 1712, 53 years after his death. The written account of an eye witness states "...the eyes and nose alone showed some decay." However, when the body was exhumed again during the canonization in 1737 it was then discovered to have decomposed due to an underground flood. His bones have been encased in a waxen figure which is displayed in a glass reliquary in the chapel of the headquarters of the Vincentian fathers in Paris. His heart is still incorrupt, and is displayed in a reliquary in the chapel of the motherhouse of the Sisters of Charity in Paris.

#st. vincent de paul

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