By Stan Steiner
This article was originally published in PCJH’s Winter 2025 Pinnacle, “Testimonies of Faith”
I’ve come to understand my faith through my relationships with others who felt a presence of God. A thousand everyday kindnesses in my family and community lead me to believe in the goodness of others and in the love of God. I need to be part of a community as much as I need fresh water and air.
My family was a small village unto itself. Mom and Dad had five boys within the first eight years of their lives together. My two sisters then came along, followed by one more brother. Our immigrant grandparents originally came to farm the deep, black Dakota loam. I, myself, was baptized in the German-speaking Saint Placidus Catholic Church in rural Mott, North Dakota. Our parents raised us in the Catholic faith and taught us the Golden Rule of treating others as you want to be treated.
Our house was a gathering place for adults and children. Everyone in the neighborhood called my mother “Ma.” She offered a listening ear to everyone, had a pot of coffee ready all day, played a competitive game of pinochle and was a wonderful cook. No one was ever turned away. We just added another place at the large table my father, a carpenter, had made himself. When folks asked him how many kids he had his answer was always, “two and half dozen.”
In our family, money was always tight; some days we sat down to nothing but a large bowl of noodles. But it was served with love and gratitude in our hearts because we had something to eat and time together. Nothing went to waste. Friday’s soup was made from the week’s leftovers. Ma was famous for her baking. Often after a school dance or sporting event our buddies asked if my mom had baked today. She proudly served them fresh baked goods, especially caramel rolls. Even if she had already gone to bed, Ma got up to fix food for everyone. She modeled a sense of community every day. My friends who shared her cooking can still recall those times.
Growing up in a large family had challenges, but far more benefits. We were expected to work hard and help raise the younger siblings, and there was always someone to play with. We were free-range kids, but all of their moms and dads looked out for us, too. My siblings and I attended the same grade school, often had the same teachers, and shared the experience of having the same kids in our class from 1st through 8th grade. We were a close-knit family and a tight community.
Things changed when we got to high school and our parents gave us a choice between Catholic or public school. Although Mom and Dad couldn’t pay the tuition, I wanted to go to the same school as my friends and paid for it with my paper route earnings. Gradually, I became more aware that my choices influenced my faith. My entire education came from Catholic schools, including my university undergraduate degree. I was an altar-boy, sang in church choirs, and joined the Columbian Squires, which was similar to Boy Scouts but with a religious focus. I began to think deeply about faith and what I believed.
One of my professors at my Catholic university influenced me in pivotal ways. Lee always had something positive to say about me and others; it felt good to be around him, just like family. I fell in love with children’s literature in his class, made my acting debut under his direction, and had many meaningful discussions about faith, diversity, death, and the celebration of life. Through his actions, I learned to look out for the underdog and get to know my students so meaningful learning can take place. For Lee, the glass was always full. He created circles of community wherever he walked and I wanted to be like him.
These days, I sense the love of Jesus at PCJH and it feels like family to me. Here, I can work and serve to create a circle of community in the way my parents and mentors taught me. And we all need community.