Recently in Good news Category

She is 47, frumpy, out of work, from a small Scottish village. She is unmarried, and by her own admission, has never been kissed. In most respects, the kind of person many look at and think: Loser.

But look at what Susan Boyle just did.

Oh my gosh. This is a real tearjerker, in a good way. You cannot miss watching that clip.

UPDATE: The more you read about Susan Boyle's life, the more you love her. She so deserves every good thing that's coming her way now.

UPDATE.2: From the comments below, how this spinster who lives in public housing in a Scottish village, a victim of bullying and a disability, who spent her life being faithful to the church and caring for her now-dead parents, is bringing hope to people around the world:

Grace: "I am a woman, 56, Black and I have been called a failure. I really cried when I saw Susan Boyle sing and read her story. It gives me much hope. Her day came and I too dream and believe that my day to shine will come." Carol: "I didn't want to cry but I did. I'm 59 and have a life-threatening and debilitating disease. Because of it, I'll most likely be unemployed soon. I watch as the world, including the church, seems to increasingly belong to the young and healthy. I have no singing talent like Susan's but listening to her gave me the tiniest grain of hope that perhaps I am not yet a totally useless person."

"Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time." 1 Peter 5-6 (KJV)

Getting the news this morning that my good friend Norris Harrington got engaged yesterday to my pal Barbara Nicolosi, whom many of you will know for her work in Hollywood. I'm over the moon with this news! It's just so very great. They are two of the smartest and most interesting and dear Catholics I know, and it is a great gift from God that they've found each other, and will spend the rest of their lives together. Congratulations to the happy couple! God grant you many years!

I'm always thrilled when the good guys win. In this case, he won big. They both did.

UPDATE: Barbara announces the news on her blog.

When I read yesterday about young Keith Kennedy, the autistic man missing for more than a week from a camp in Wisconsin, I thought I knew how the story was going to turn out. It seemed like the media was thinking the same thing--the story started turning up more frequently on the various news pages I was visiting, and the sobering news that the search would be scaled back considerably was featured prominently. In all likelihood all that was left to report would be the eventual discovery of Keith's remains, along with speculation from investigators as to just what happened, and a piecing together of the young man's final days and hours.

And nine times out of ten, sadly, that would probably have turned out to be just how things went.

But not the tenth time--not this time. Down to the wire, hours away from an official shift from a rescue operation to a "recovery," (though many searchers were already treating it that way) two firefighters from St. Paul found Keith Kennedy--alive:

Ruiz said it was nearing 8 p.m. Sunday and his group, part of about 75 firefighters from throughout the Twin Cities area, was about to call it quits. Because so much time had passed since Kennedy's disappearance, they had been treating the operation as a recovery effort rather than a search-and-rescue undertaking, he said.

"We were yelling for the other guys because [the woods were] so thick," he said. "Suddenly we came to a clearing and Jim said, 'He's right here.' I said, 'Who?' and Jim said, 'No, he's right here, the one we're looking for. He's right here.'"

The two looked down to see Kennedy, naked and lying curled in the fetal position. A week's worth of thick stubble darkened his face. Then he moaned. He was alive.

Keith's mom says that she believes in miracles now. Granted, in the strictest sense of the word this isn't a miraculous situation--no laws of nature were temporarily suspended (or, perhaps more accurately, transcended) so that Keith could go home to his family like this. Not that we know of, anyway, or are ever likely to know.

But in a looser sense of the word, this certainly is a miracle, because the son the Kennedy family thought was dead is alive; he who was lost has been found--and what could so, so easily have ended in anguished tears has ended in heartfelt joy.

Christians see God's handiwork in more than just the miraculous events recorded in the Bible; we recognize it, too, in the everyday miracles in which we are privileged to participate. When we help to feed the hungry and assuage the thirst of those without water, or clothe the naked, or visit the sick or imprisoned, or shelter the homeless, or even to join those who mourn as they bid an earthly farewell to those whom they have loved, God is there.

And when by the perseverance of strangers searching for a lost young man a mother's deep sorrow becomes true rejoicing, He is also there.

Regular readers know that Jonah Goldberg and I have had our differences, to put it mildly, but I want to wish him sincere congratulations on the upcoming publication of his book, "Liberal Fascism." I know something about how good it feels to finally get the damn thing done, and to see it in hardback. People will say all kinds of things about one's book, but the thing nobody can take away from an author is that -- hey! -- you've written a book. Some authors (Garry Wills, for example) seem to have an easy time of it, but for most of us, writing is hard work. For we who write on daily or weekly deadlines, keeping the focus to write a long-term project is exceptionally difficult. It certainly was for me. Whatever the reviewers say, or whatever the sales amount to, completing a book and getting it into print by a mainstream publisher is a terrific accomplishment, and it ought to be noted, and congratulated. So: congratulations, Jonah.

...but back here in the comments beneath this post, Rebecca T. shares some news!

Congratulations! Prayers are on the way, and my parents could attest to the truth of the old proverb about each baby arriving with a loaf of bread under his or her arms. Your trust in God to provide is a beautiful example to the rest of us.