A Beacon of Light

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  • My name is Kevin Carroll. I was born and raised in San Francisco, California, where I attended Saint Ignatius College Preparatory. I am a graduate of both Santa Clara University and the University of San Francisco. Following a 40-year career in teaching and pastoral ministry, I launched a new career as a writer and speaker.

    I live in San José, California. My wife, Kathy, and I have three adult sons and five precious grandchildren. I have much for which to be grateful.

    I can be reached via email at kmc43sjc@gmail.com

    My books are available for purchase online from Amazon. I also have copies of some of these titles at my home for those who would like to buy them directly from me.

    A Moment’s Pause for Gratitude  (2017)

    Cherries in the Summer  (2021)

    The Ambassador of 38th Avenue  (2022)

    Dad: 12 Questions…  (2023)

    A Focus on Gratitude  (2024)

    Through the Lens of Gratitude  (2024)

    A Bahamian Odyssey (2026)

  • Fun with Words

    “A poet is, before 
    anything else, 
    a person who is 
    passionate in love 
    with language.” 
    W. H. Auden

    I have no recollection of being exposed to poetry during my elementary school years. This is not to say that my class was never introduced to poetry. My lack of memory probably has more to do with my lack of interest in the literary form. My high school years were a different experience.

    Beginning in freshman year, when I had to memorize The Cremation of Sam McGee, by Robert W. Service, my absolute distaste of poetry emerged. While I considered the poem to be quite amusing, the fact that I had to memorize it — all 68 lines! — left a bitter taste in my mouth.

    In future high school English classes, when the need for what we studied was expected to be relevant, we were introduced to the works of Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Edgar Allan Poe, Langston Hughes, and e.e. cummings. I should have been impressed with their writings, but I wasn’t. Nor was I enamored with the works of John Keats, T.S. Eliot, or Era Pound. Poetry just wasn’t my thing.

    All this changed when I took a Renaissance Literature course at Santa Clara University. In that class, we studied Shakespeare’s sonnets. I can’t say that I enjoyed the experience, but I endured it. At the conclusion of the unit, the professor, Dr. Diane Dreher, informed us that it was our turn to write a perfect Shakespearean sonnet. We had about a week to complete the assignment.

    Shakespearean sonnets have strict rules. The meter must be iambic pentameter. The rhyme scheme must be A-B-A-B, C-D-C-D, E-F-E-F, GG. The first twelve lines are divided into three four-line quatrains. The poem ends with a two-line couplet. And that’s not all.

    The three quatrains must present a dilemma or problem to be solved. The couplet must contain the solution or resolution to that problem. Simple as that, right? I immediately knew that this was one assignment I wasn’t going to complete successfully.

    Almost a full week passed by. On Sunday night at about 10:00, the night before the due date, I sat down with a legal pad and pen to give it a shot. Problem and solution… Okay, should I attend my Renaissance Lit class or should I visit my girlfriend in the SCU dormitory?

    Iambic pentameter… da-DA, da-DA, da-DA, da-DA, da-DA. I repeated this beat in my head over and over. Once I got the rhythm, I started putting words to it: “The time has come to saunter off to class…” Hey, that worked! So I thought about the second line: “…to learn of sonnets, lyric voice, and style.” That worked, too! But now I had to rhyme with “class” and “style.” Line three came to me quickly: “But I could stay and visit with my lass…” Yes! Then this: “…since midterms won’t be here for quite a while.” Quatrain one was finished! It took about five minutes. So I kept going.

    “But what of Pico, Sidney, More, and Donne?
    My mind should thirst to know their wit and ways.
    Yet in my mind, there’s really only one
    Whose beauty sets my loving heart ablaze.”

    I kept writing. The next line is my favorite of the entire sonnet.

    “Should knowledge, more than lust, my passions heed?
    Or is this time I really can afford
    to visit with the one I love and need —
    the one who, for a year now, I’ve adored?”

    Three quatrains in fifteen minutes. I was on a roll. All I needed was the couplet.

    “Although it’s not the way that things should be,
    more happiness my loved one gives to me.”

    That’s it! A perfect Shakespearean sonnet… in twenty minutes! I couldn’t believe it. How did that happen? Where did all those words, with perfect meter and rhyme scheme, come from? It was a moment of awakening for me. I would come to realize that I have a gift for writing poetry.

    I’ve composed dozens of poems through the years on a variety of topics. Most of these have required minimal time and effort. The words just seemed to flow. Did I develop a new-found appreciation for the poets I so despised in my high school years. No, I didn’t. My favorite poet, the one who has most inspired the poems I’ve written through the years, is none other than Shel Silverstein. He made poetry fun, entertaining, approachable, and easily understandable. 

    I will always have a tremendous appreciation for Dr. Dreher at Santa Clara University for challenging me to write my first sonnet. Without that task, I may have never realized this gift with which I’ve been blessed.

  • 5 Simple Words

    “Silent gratitude 
    isn’t very much
    use to anyone.” 
    Gertrude Stein

    I often stand at the checkout counter at the local grocery store watching the courtesy clerk bagging my groceries, a part-time job I had for a while during my high school years. When everything is packed into the brown paper bags and loaded into the shopping cart, I usually say, “Thanks for all you do.” More often than not, those words bring a smile to the courtesy clerk’s face.

    One afternoon in April, I was walking through Saratoga Creek Park in San José. I noticed a crew of young men and women watering the bases of newly-planted trees along the side of the pedestrian pathway. When I approached them, I asked, “Hey, does anyone ever thank you guys for doing this?” They responded with a look of surprise. One of them responded, “Uh,… no.” So I said, “Thanks for all you do,” and went on my way. I hope my comment brightened their day.

    I recently had to file some paperwork at the Santa Clara County Clerk’s Office in downtown San José. It’s one of those places where people who need to file documents have to take a ticket and wait for their number to be called. It’s a slow process, so I was grateful that I was in no hurry. While I was there, I noticed that I didn’t see anyone smiling in the office — not the workers and definitely not those waiting to file their documents. When my number was called, I approached the window and was greeted professionally by a young woman. I asked if her day was going well. She looked at me with an expression that seemed to say, “Nobody ever asks me that.” Her response was a warm smile and a positive comment. When my documents had been successfully filed, I said, “Thanks for all you do.” The smile on the clerk’s face said everything. I’m sure she doesn’t hear that very often.

    It’s that easy! Five simple words — words which can transform a person’s day from one of boredom, frustration, or apathy to one of hope and a restored faith in humanity. People appreciate being appreciated. Expressions of gratitude are, sadly, not spoken as often as they could be. Simple spoken words of gratefulness are one way each one of us can contribute to making our world a better place.

    Popular author and speaker, Brené Brown, reminds us that we don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness. Opportunities for happiness are right in front of us throughout the day if we’re paying attention and practicing gratitude.

    Margaret Cousins, a specialist in the theory, principles, and methods of teaching and learning, wrote, “Appreciation can make a day, even change a life. Your willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary.”

    Give it a try! 

  • Memorable Meals

    “Make each  
    day your  
    masterpiece.”  
    John Wooden

    When I reflect back on my life, I feel blessed to have vivid memories of dozens of wonderful experiences of enjoying breakfast, lunch, or dinner with friends or loved ones. Childhood memories include family dinners at the New Tivoli Restaurant in North Beach, The Spinnaker in Sausalito, the House of Prime Rib, and at Westlake Joe’s. At one of our New Tivoli dinners, my paternal grandmother put grated parmesan cheese into her coffee, believing that it was sugar. The sugar was in an identical container on the table. As kids, my siblings and I got a kick out of that.

    I also have wonderful memories of family dinners at our home on 38th Avenue, at my maternal grandparents’ home in the outer Mission District in The City, and at my cousin Dan’s home in the San Carlos hills.

    Of course, I have countless recollections of family meals shared with Kathy and our three boys, too — from simple meals at home to dining experiences at a variety of local restaurants. Most of these meals bring back wonderful memories.

    There are three specific meals I recall, however, which were memorable for other reasons. If I were asked to prioritize them in order of significance, this would be my list:

    #3 – It was our first night back to our home on Lincoln Street in Santa Clara after the birth of our first son, Tom, in May 1986. So that Kathy and I would not have to prepare a meal, our good friend, Cheryl Anido, prepared a dinner of chicken with chicken flavored rice. Kathy and I have always agreed that it was one of the best meals of our lives. Both the chicken and rice were incredibly flavorful, and to have someone so graciously prepare a meal for us on that special occasion was absolutely delightful and very much appreciated.

    #2 – In the years before I met Kathy, I most always planned my vacation getaways for the first two weeks in August. For the most part, if I didn’t spend the time in the Bahamas, I would enjoy my two-week vacation at South Lake Tahoe. On the drive from San José to the lake, I occasionally stopped at Sierra College in Rocklin, where the San Francisco 49ers pre-season practices were taking place.

    On one of those days, I had the opportunity to say hello to 49ers Defensive Coordinator Bill McPherson at the practice field. I had taught his son, Patrick, at Saint Christopher School in San José. Bill was a graduate of both Bellarmine College Prep and Santa Clara University. On this particular day, the coach invited me to join him for lunch. I graciously accepted, not realizing that I would be going into the cafeteria with the likes of Joe Montana, Dwight Clark, Ronnie Lott, and so many other 49er greats. I got my tray of food and followed Bill over to a table for four. I recognized the other two people sitting at that table, though they didn’t know me. One was Coach George Seifert. The other was former Oakland Raiders football coach and NFL announcer John Madden.

    There we were, just the four of us, enjoying lunch and talking football. Needless to say, I had absolutely nothing to contribute to the conversation, but the coaches were quite hospitable in welcoming me to their table. I was aware that I was in the presence of football greatness.

    #1 – By far, my most memorable experience at a meal took place in the summer of 1974. I was working at Bellarmine College Prep as the liaison between the school and groups renting the facilities, specifically the Bellarmine dormitory. One such group was the Wooden-Sharman Basketball Camp.

    I woke up one morning and, as I did each day, entered the dining hall through the back door into the kitchen. Tom, the chef, would make whatever I wanted for breakfast that day, from pancakes or waffles to omelets with hash browns. On one particular morning, after getting the plate with my breakfast, I walked through the double doors from the kitchen into the dining hall. Normally, the place would be empty at that early hour of the morning. On this day, however, one gentleman was sitting alone at a table enjoying his breakfast. It was the legendary U.C.L.A. men’s basketball coach, John Wooden.

    For a brief moment, I pondered whether I should join him or allow him his privacy. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this was the opportunity of a lifetime. I asked if I could join him, and he graciously welcomed me to his table.

    For almost an hour, we talked mostly about basketball, but after a while, I was the beneficiary of Coach Wooden’s love for teaching. He introduced me to his Pyramid of Success, sharing a variety of life lessons that have influenced my life since that day. I realized at that moment that I was in the presence of an amazing human being, so I listened attentively to his words of wisdom.

    I am grateful for all the positive experiences I have enjoyed with others while sharing meals, but that one unexpected breakfast with Coach Wooden will always hold a special place in my heart.

  • Use It or Lose It

    “Keeping up with  
    friends helps with  
    healthy aging.”       
    Jessica Stillman

    This past Sunday afternoon, I spent some time visiting with my new friend, Tony, the 101-year-old Stanford graduate I’d met outside Starbucks a few days earlier. He had mentioned to me that he goes to the coffee shop pretty much every day between 12:30 and 2:00, so I stopped by on Sunday after a delightful Mother’s Day lunch with Kathy and Brendan at the Pruneridge Golf Club. 

    During my conversation with Tony, a gentleman sitting at an adjacent table commented on something he had overheard in our conversation. Before long, Ed had moved from his table to join us at ours. The three of us talked about baseball, communication between women and men, the benefits and pitfalls of new technology, and a number of other topics. Ed shared that he was currently reading a recently-published book: Who Needs Friends, by Andrew McCarthy. Before I had the opportunity to share my thoughts, the conversation topic abruptly changed to something else.

    What I would have mentioned to Tony and Ed is that on my MacBook Pro desktop, I had a file about that very topic which I was planning to use as a resource for a future blog post. Well, today’s post is that post.

    In an October 2025 Inc. newsletter, the author, Jessica Stillman, shared some significant information which I found to be extraordinarily reassuring. Those who know me are aware that I’m a social person. I get energized when I meet new people. I am not particularly fond of large crowds, but I like being around people, even more so when I have the opportunity to engage with them in conversation.

    In her article, Stillman cited the Harvard Study of Adult Development, which has tracked the lives of more than 700 participants for the past 88 years. This study revealed that “the biggest predictor of a long, healthy life is not biological. It’s social. The better the quality of your relationships, the more likely you are to age well.”

    This is encouraging news, because while we have no control over our biological makeup, we do have a fair amount of control over our social life.

    In an interview with the Harvard Gazette, Robert Waldinger, the director of the Harvard study, stated, “We think of physical fitness as a practice, as something we do to maintain our bodies. Our social life is a living system, and it needs maintenance, too.”

    So now that we know that keeping up with friends promotes healthy aging, what can we do to take full advantage of this realization? For this, Stillman turned to Harvard-trained social scientist Kasley Killam. She suggests the 5-3-1 rule:

    • Spend time with FIVE different people each week.
    • Nurture THREE close relationships.
    • Aim for ONE hour of social interaction each day.
    (This doesn’t have to be all at once.)

    Killam suggests that a simple telephone conversation can have more of a positive impact than many would suspect. 

    We are social beings. We need each other. We need to prioritize interacting with others. To do so is beneficial for both our physical and emotional well-being. 

    You can check out Kasley Killiam’s TED Talk by clicking here: TED Talk 

  • What if…?

    “We may have different religions, different languages, different colored skin, but we all belong to one human race.” — Kofi Annan

  • Seeking Serenity

    “Serenity is the
    peaceful coexistence
    with life’s challenges.”
    Dalai Lama

    I’ve written about “sacred spaces” in the past. They can be found in myriad places. For many people, churches, chapels, and shrines provide what they might refer to as their sacred space. For others, venues might include the beach, a particular park, a mountain top, or a quiet lake or stream. For others, their sacred space might be within their home. For something to be a “sacred” space, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a particularly religious place. It simply needs to be a venue which offers us peace of mind and a sense of serenity. It might also be a place where we experience an encounter with our God.

    There are dozens of places which, through the years, have proven to be sacred spaces for me. These include the cliffs along West Cliff Drive in Santa Cruz, the Jesuit Retreat Center in Los Altos, Hakone Gardens in Saratoga, Saint Ignatius Church in The City, and Sunset Dunes Park, formerly known as The Great Highway, in San Francisco. In each of these places, I experience levels of serenity that nurture my soul. 

    One other place comes to mind, as well, although I can’t really claim it as my own sacred space. I’m referring to Land’s End Lookout, a parking lot and picnic area overlooking the Pacific Ocean and the remains of the old Sutro Baths in The City, just north of the Cliff House. This was one of my Mom’s sacred spaces.

    In her final years living on 38th Avenue in The City, before her move to a retirement community in Mountain View in 2012, Mom thoroughly enjoyed spending time sitting in her car in the parking lot at the Land’s End Lookout. Sometimes she would bring a book and do some reading. Sometimes she’d fall asleep. Most often, however, she simply cherished the opportunity to savor the view of the ocean beyond Seal Rocks. If she happened to be there at the right time of day, she would often be treated to a spectacular view of the setting sun. 

    One online dictionary defines serenity as “the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled, representing a deep, lasting and unwavering inner tranquility; it is a composed state of mind that remains steady, even in the midst of chaos.”

    For many years, I had a framed print of The Serenity Prayer hanging on the wall in my home office. A few weeks ago, I removed it from my office and hung it on the wall at the bottom of the steps that lead from our living room up to the bedrooms. I pause several times each day and read the prayer:

    “Lord, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference.” 

  • This is Tony

    “The first  
    hundred years  
    are the hardest.”  
    Wilson Mizner

    It was about 2:30 yesterday afternoon. Kathy, along with my youngest son, Brendan, took my grandson, Henry, to the park. When they left home, I was sitting in a comfortable chair in the living room. I was tired. While a nap was tempting, I thought better of it and decided to get up and go, though I had no particular destination in mind.

    I got in my car and drove down Williams Road to Saratoga Avenue. On a whim, I turned left and proceeded south on Saratoga to Prospect Road. It was there that the thought of stopping for a cup of hot chocolate crossed my mind.

    I parked the car outside Starbucks and walked toward the front door. I noticed that an elderly gentleman was sitting alone at a table in front of the store. I ordered my drink and, while waiting for it to be prepared, I noticed the man moving a couple of chairs from his table back to other tables. I got my drink and went outside.

    “You’ve got the whole patio to yourself,” I proclaimed, and I sat down at an adjacent table. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but I figured the man was probably in his early nineties. He was comfortably dressed and proudly sported a Stanford University cap. His name is Tony. He’s 101 years old!

    We had a delightful conversation which lasted more than an hour. We talked about where we were from, where we’d gone to school, and what we had done for work in our careers. We spoke of our kids and grandkids, experiences we’ve had in common, and where we currently live. Tony moved into an apartment in West San Jose several years ago after meeting his “soul mate.” The apartment directly above her unit was vacant, so Tony moved in. They had several wonderful years together before Elaine, as a result of a fall in her apartment, passed away. That was five years ago.

    Tony confided in me that he didn’t have many people to talk with anymore. All of his school buddies have died. When Elaine passed, Tony was left with some family members around the country, but he was alone in Silicon Valley. 

    He drives (yes, he drives — he just renewed his driver’s license for another five years!) from his apartment to Starbucks every afternoon, just to get out for a while. Yesterday, he had been visiting with two men he’d met at Starbucks in recent years. They had departed prior to my arrival, which is why Tony was rearranging the chairs while I was inside getting my drink.

    Tony also does his own shopping and cooking. Despite his age, he is quite self-sufficient and his cognitive abilities are impressive. I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with him, and I’m looking forward to getting together with him again soon.

    While I didn’t have a destination in mind when I left my home yesterday afternoon, I am convinced that God did have something planned for me. Something very special. Meeting and conversing with Tony was an absolute gift. His outlook on life is refreshingly positive, and I know we barely scratched the surface of the many stories he has to tell about his life.

    “At 101, you’re not living for the joy of new experiences; you’re surviving out of sheer curiosity to see what ridiculous challenge life throws at you next.” 
    (Roselio Muniz, age 101) 

  • Just for Fun

    A while back, I wrote a post about anagrams. Today, just for the pure enjoyment of it, I’d like to offer this photoblog dedicated to anachronisms.

    Not sure what an anachronism is? The word is defined as “something or someone that is not in its correct historical or chronological time.”

    Enjoy!

  • We Are Not Alone

    “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.“
    — Matthew 18:20

  • Be Kind

    “No act of  
    kindness,  
    no matter  
    how small,  
    is ever wasted.”       
    Aesop

    Since you are reading this blog post, I will assume that you are a kind person. You may not realize this even yourself, but if you think about the way you treat people, day in and day out, you will more than likely recognize a pattern of kindness toward others. When you treat others with kindness, you probably do so most often not because they are necessarily nice, but because you are! This is a good thing.

    Poet Maya Angelou has special words for you. She said, “My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness.”

    I saw a poster recently which stated: “To act with kindness is never a random act; neither is it unintentional. Kindness always flows from self-awareness and empathy for others.” 

    Here’s the bottom line. If you have the opportunity to be kind to someone, just do it. You never know when someone might be struggling silently. There’s a chance that your act of kindness could be the highlight of their day. One kind word from you can make a positive difference in someone’s life.

    Choose kindness… and watch the world around you change.