A friend and I went to lunch recently with a priest friend, who brought along two books from, as he put it with a twinkle in his eyes, “My very small lending library.”
He lent my friend a Thomas Merton work, as they’re both huge fans. Me, I got John O’Donohue’s Conamara Blues. I’m not sure Father Jack knows my great-grandfather Rigney hailed from County Galway, where Conamara is located, but I look forward to reading what the back cover calls a “deeply moving series of poems that exemplifies O’Donohue at his finest.”
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