Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Catholic
History and Religion
On the First Cold Day

On the First Cold Day

Last updated on: October 8, 2025 at 12:32 am by Mary Pezzulo

0 Comments

On the First Cold Day 2025-10-08T00:32:48-04:00 Mary Pezzulo

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

A tree branch in the beginning of Autumn. The leaves in the foreground are red, and the leaves in the background are still green.

image via Pixabay

I wish there were words to describe how it feels, living in interesting times.

I wish I could explain how surreal America felt, for the first seven months of 2025. And then, in late September and early October, I started to feel guilty. I felt guilty for all kinds of reasons.

The mad king began murdering Venezuelan fishermen, ordering his minions to blow up their boats, and it made me feel like a murderer.

The mad king’s masked agents shot pepper bullets at a pastor who was calling them to repentance, and it made me feel as if I, myself, was stoning a prophet.

I have a friend who lives in Chicago, seven hours away, where every single day it’s another horror story. Masked government agents are driving around residential neighborhoods with guns, looking for brown people to menace. Children have been dragged out of apartment buildings naked in the middle of the night. And the mad king just keeps sending more soldiers. I worry about her children every night. Every morning, I check to see if she’s all right. But I’m not worried about my own safety yet, and that makes me feel guilty.

So little has changed in the Valley. Oh, the prices for food are outrageous and they’re going to get worse. Jimmy the Mechanic went to the junkyard for car parts, and found that everything was expensive there as well. A few neighbors took down their raggedy TRUMP VANCE 2024 flags, but not all. The local charities have fewer things to give away; the grandmother of the Baker Street Irregulars is fretting about Christmas. But I am not afraid when I go out. I don’t worry about the families who live on my street. There are no masked men terrorizing the neighbors, not yet. They have no reason to terrorize a small town in a blood-red corner of Northern Appalachia. We don’t deserve to be punished. Our electoral votes went to the Mad King. That makes me feel unclean. It makes me feel spoiled and selfish.

I would far, far rather suffer, than watch other people suffer from a distance.

The other day it was hot out. The air smelled like Autumn but felt like July. I desperately wanted to drive out to the countryside to find a crick and go for a swim, even though it was the first week of October. But Jimmy was still working on my car. I walked under the trees in Union Cemetery, crunching on acorns and the first of the fall leaves while the rest of the foliage was still a dull green overhead. I skirted around the burial plots, seeking out the big trees to shade my walk. That was how I found the Fighting McCooks.

The Fighting McCooks were a family of Civil War heroes from Ohio, six of whom reached higher ranks than Brigadier General. Several of the McCooks fell in battle or succumbed to the aftereffects of battle wounds, dying to make men free. There were more than half a dozen McCooks buried at the edge of the trees under a line of stone rectangles. Just reading their names, somehow, I felt all the fear and suspense and anger that have been bouncing around my stomach since last November. I wanted to cry, but the tears caught in my throat. Then I walked the rest of the way through the cemetery, to the grocery store by the middle school, and looked at the Halloween decorations, and felt happy again. And I felt guilty, for feeling happy.

Today was the first cold day of Autumn. It rained for the first time in I don’t know how long, soaking the grass and making life seem worth living. It rained so hard that Jimmy’s boy missed the bus. He stayed home from school, so I took him for a walk around the neighborhood after the downpour had slowed to a drizzle.

He’s been thinking about wars lately.

“Did you know, in wars, sometimes they bomb cities?”

“Yes,” I said solemnly. “They do bomb cities.”

“And the cities burn, and the buildings fall on people.”

“Yes. And some families lose everything, and they have to run away from the cities and live in a tent as refugees. It’s terrible for them. They’re cold and hungry.”

“An I was in a war,” began Jimmy’s boy. I don’t know why some of the children in Steubenville say “an” or “and” instead of “if.” It’s a linguistic eccentricity I’ve heard some places in Northern Appalachia. Jimmy’s boy says ‘an.’ “An I was in a war, and they were bombing some buildings, I know what I would do.”

“So do I.”

“An I was in a war, I would buy grenades! An I was in a battle I would buy a bunch of grenades, and throw them at the bombers!”

“I would buy first aid kits and help the families,” I said. “And then I’d set up a school in a refugee tent and teach the children things so they could still get an education while they were running away from the war.”

Jimmy’s boy promised to protect my school, with his grenades, when the war came.

We stopped to pick up an armload of fallen pears, from a pear tree somebody had planted just to get the blossoms in spring. And then we went a little further, near the cliff’s edge where LaBelle drops away towards the Ohio river, across from the foothills of West Virginia. A bit of the fall color was really visible from a distance, for the very first time.

Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep instead for yourselves and for your children, for indeed, the days are coming when people will say, ‘Blessed are the barren, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed.’ At that time people will say to the mountains, ‘Fall upon us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ for if these things are done when the wood is green what will happen when it is dry?

The feelings rose up in me again, but again, I couldn’t cry.

The rain kicked up, and we went home.

Mary Pezzulo is the author of Meditations on the Way of the Cross, The Sorrows an d Joys of Mary, and Stumbling into Grace: How We Meet God in Tiny Works of Mercy.

Steel Magnificat operates almost entirely on tips. To tip the author, donate to “The Little Portion” on paypal or Mary Pezzulo on venmo

History and Religion

Home and Religion

Previous Post

October 6, 2025

WIC is Running Out of Money, Fast

Next Post

October 13, 2025 In Chicago, the Church Wakes Up

Recent Comments

0 | Leave a Comment

"Thank you for bringing so much goodness into the lives of so many children.Ran across ..."

alwayspuzzled

The Passion of the Red Oak

"This current administration has had me reflecting on the Nuremberg trials and the like, for ..."

axelbeingcivil

On Traditionalist Bullies, and the Death ..."

"You're talking about supercessionism, the idea that Christians "replace" the covenant that the Jewish people ..."

Alex

Yes, the Old Testament is About ..."

"Oh I'm sure it did."

Mary

A Televised Execution is a Moral, ..."

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category abortion Abuse Advent America American Christianity angel angels Annunciation Appalachia apparition apparition chaser apparition chasers apparition culture art art review babies baby baby Jesus Bad Lip Reading bad statue contest bath beauty Bible story blog blogkeeping blood book review Brandon Sanderson breastfeeding bus Catholic catholic conspiracy alarmism Catholic Oppositional Disorder Charismatic Renewal Charlie the Cat chastity Christ Christian idenitity Christianity and Judaism Chronic Illness clean clothing COD piece comedy compassion conscience conspiracy theory conversion cop-on-black violence Crucifixion cry of the poor culture Daesh Daily Saints death death penalty devotional diaconate diaper diapers dirty disability Donald Trump Dorothy Day dream drugs Eastern Catholicism Eastern Christianity education election election update Elsewhere on Patheos empathy environment Fear feminism film review fish flashback fluffy buns food Franciscan University of Steubenville Friendship Room fun Gabriel gardening gospel hair-splitting Heaven hell heresy Hillary Clinton history Holly the Witch Holy Spirit holy war Homeschooling homosexuality horror human dignity humor Icon idol immigrants infection inter-religious dialogue Interpretation of Scripture Islam Jesus Jihad Joseph joy laity and lay vocations lamb dinner laundry lent lgbtq literature love manners Mary Medicine and Science Meditation mercy mess milk misogyny Missouri monasticism monster motherhood mourn with those mourn movies movis music mystery nature neurodiversity New Pro-Life Movement news nonsense nostalgia O antiphons obituary objectification Ohio Valley Ordinary Time ordination Ordo Amoris parable paradox Passover peanut butter personal beliefs pets philosophy Planet Charismatic poetry politics polls poop Pope Francis Pope Leo power in the Church prayer prayer request prayers preferential option for non-violence president presidential election priest primary private revelation pro-life prophecy Public face of Catholicism Pure Flix Q and A race racism random rape rape. sexuality reader's request Reckoners refugee religious trauma ressurrection Right to life Saints saints and celebrations same-sex same-sex marriage satire scandal secular feasts seder Seven Joys Seven Last Words sex sexual ethics sexuality silencing six months skid row slavery social justice Speculative fiction spiritual abuse spoon stain story suffering suffrage suffragette Sunday Gospel temple Tenebrae Responsories Terror the exorcist The Friendship Room The New Pro-Life Movement Things I Learned on the Internet tin cup traffic true story tv review Uncategorized USCCB vice and temptation violence Virtue virtue and vice war Way of the Cross whimsy whole life women's ordination work of mercy Year A

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What prominent city did Paul visit, known for its altar to "an unknown god"?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Ephesus Rome Athens Corinth