On August 14 my husband took my two oldest
sons, 13 and 5, on their annual father-son camping trip. They gather
with six or seven other dads and their sons and spend four days doing
manly things that never seem to involve a change of clothes or a
shower. They take their Breviaries and rosary beads and attend Mass
together to include a spiritual component, and they all come home
refreshed, relaxed and filthy.
Read the rest of my column in The Long Island Catholic here.
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