By Jessica Easthope

The promise of a sweet treat is what first drew Deacon Tobechukwu Offiah to God; his mom, Mary, knew exactly what she was doing. 

“As a kid, my mom makes you love going to church,” Deacon Offiah said. “She’s a gifted woman. When we go to Mass at the end of Mass, we [would] go get ice cream.” 

As a kid growing up in Lagos, Nigeria, Deacon Toby very quickly came to look forward to Sundays. 

“She did it in such a way that I just naturally desired to go to Mass because I know that I would get ice cream afterward,” Deacon Offiah said. “I see that as God’s way of really drawing me closer to himself.”

These days, faith stands alone. Deacon Offiah knows now that Christ’s love is much sweeter. Back then, ice cream was just a distraction that was leading him toward God. 

But after coming to the United States in 2017 with a degree in accounting, the American Dream was a new distraction, one he could taste. 

“Just being in America and working two jobs at the time. It’s very attractive because they are not just telling you about it, but you could also see them living the life,” Deacon Offiah said. 

However, it was only leading him away from his vocation. It was then he remembered his mother’s childhood strategy. 

“She did more than just ice cream,” Deacon Offiah said. “She did what a mother could do to see that her son gets to the right place, and which place can we all desire, if not the heavenly kingdom? And that is the gift that she gave to me.”

For Deacon Offiah, the priesthood and the American Dream are now one and the same. 

When his mom passed away in 2022, she died with the peace of knowing her son had chosen the right path. 

She sang a blessing he’ll never forget. 

“She recorded herself singing, you know, and in that song she told me that I should keep on moving in the discernment that I followed, that it will not be easy,” Deacon Offiah said. She said, what I should know is that she’s always behind me.” 

On ordination day, she’ll be behind him in spirit, her deep faith became his own. 

“My mom did a lot. Ice cream was one of them. But she did more than that,” Deacon Offiah said. “She helped me to come to know God through prayer, and today, I’m willing to give him all, you know, to the service of his people. And so the glory of his name.”

Building a civilization of love is the goal of the Crossroads Music Festival.

There was music and dancing outside of the San Damiano Mission in Greenpoint on Saturday, May 4.

The Shalom Catholic Community hosted this festival, aimed at planting the seed of peace in the heart of New York City.

Along with the artists performing on stage, there was also an international food court, and adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, which Bishop Robert Brennan also took part in.

By Jessica Easthope

Wilfredo Gonzalez, Jeanne Shannon, and Mirna Roman come from completely different walks of life, but they all have something in common, or rather someone.

“I remember she always had candies on her desk,” Gonzalez said.

“Every time I’d come to the office she would say help yourself and just talk to her,” Roman said.

Marie Scarpelli sat at this desk for nearly 40 years as the parish secretary at St. Elizabeth Church in Ozone Park.

Gonzalez, the church’s bookkeeper and director of religious education, said nothing stopped Scarpelli from doing her job, not even colon cancer, and definitely not chemo.

“She never complained about her sickness,” Gonzalez said. “She would go to chemo at 9 a.m., and she. She would tell father, I want to go back to work after my chemo.”

Scarpelli passed away on April 19 after keeping her illness a secret from the larger parish community.

“There’s many people that never knew, never found out that she was sick,” Gonzalez said.

“Because there was never a change in her demeanor or her attitude, or her friendliness, or her smile,” Shannon said.

For Roman, an employee at the parish and St. Elizabeth Catholic Academy, Scarpelli’s absence has left a void.

“It’s hard to get used to, you know, not seeing her beautiful smile,” Roman said. “There’s no words about it. And you can never replace someone like Marie.”

Shannon, the principal of St. Elizabeth Catholic Academy, said she misses their talks when she would run errands that brought her away from her post and into the rectory.

“I’d sit down and we would just chat for 15 or 20 minutes,” Shannon said. “And to be honest, it was a great, sort of respite from the struggles of the job. I knew Marie would be here and I could sit and chat with her.”

In the parish calendar, in a spot reserved for the day’s Mass intentions, Scarpelli jotted one down on her birthday this year.

It’s since been replaced with ‘remembrance’.

“If I learn one thing from her, it’s when you are suffering, you always look at God,” Gonzalez said.

“I think Marie’s legacy is just immeasurable,” Shannon said. “The way she did her job was a way to serve God because her faith was very, very important to her.”

Scarpelli remembered everything, every birthday and every anniversary, and it’s part of why she’ll never be forgotten.