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)

  • Wanna Get Away?

    “One’s destination
    is never a place,
    but a new way
    of seeing things.” 
    Henry Miller

    The Southwest Airlines “Wanna get away?” marketing campaign, which ran from 1998 to 2008, was brilliant. A woman in an airport had a problem with her contact lens, so she blindly stumbled into the rest room to use the mirror to help her resolve the situation. Only then did she realize that she was in the men’s restroom. “Wanna get away?”

    A military leader, during a crisis situation, was required to divulge his secret passcode to his colleagues to prevent a global disaster. With reservation, and a bit of embarrassment, he spelled out “ihatemyjob1.” One of his subordinates, shocked by what he had just heard, looked at officer and verified the password. “I hate my job one?” [Pause] “Wanna get away?” 

    A number of different scenarios were used to create the same type of awkward dilemma, causing the main characters to wish they could get away… immediately.  The commercials were quite entertaining, and, apparently, very effective.

    I am not currently experiencing an awkward dilemma. I’m not trying to escape from anyone or anything. There is no particular place I need to be this week, and nothing urgent that I need to do, but I have the opportunity to get away for a few days. So this morning, I’ll hop on a Southwest flight to Los Angeles for a visit with my brother, Tom, and a few days of rest and relaxation. Some might think it strange that I would be flying solo on this adventure, but as Thomas Jefferson once said, “I think one travels more usefully when they travel alone, because they reflect more.”

    There are times when taking a short vacation is a form of self-care, too. This is one of those times. I’m convinced that self-care is not selfish. Rather, it is an essential component of our overall physical and mental well-being. In addition to spending time with my brother, these few days away will give me the opportunity to do some reading, walking, a bit of thinking, and, if inspired to do so, some writing. I do not intend for it to be a working vacation. I’m simply giving myself the gift of a few days away from the responsibilities of daily life and the opportunity to spend some time with Tom. I have no set agenda for these few days. This, in itself, is a gift.

    I’ll be in the air and well on my way before 8:00 this morning. The change of scenery will be nice, as will the weather this week in Southern California. When I arrive, I’ll catch an Uber ride to Loyola-Marymount University, where Tom lives and works. Then I’ll be ready to take a deep breath of the ocean air and make the most of my time in Los Angeles.

    Wanna get away? I sure do.

  • New Bookstore

    “A town isn’t a town
    without a bookstore.” 
    Neil Gaiman

    The Town of Los Gatos, California may once again legitimately call itself, by Neil Gaiman’s definition, a town. After years of small, independent bookstores in Los Gatos closing, succumbing to the popularity and convenience of giant online booksellers, the doors have opened to a new, locally-owned, independent bookstore in the charming downtown area. Beyond Text Bookstore celebrates its grand opening today from 10 AM to 6 PM.  

    I spoke with Tanya, the owner, yesterday. To say that she is excited about today’s event would be an understatement. For Tanya, opening a brick and mortar bookstore is a dream come true. Real books in a real bookstore for real readers to peruse, and hopefully purchase. The store is small, but the selection is impressive. Of course, I might be a bit biased. My newest book, Through the Lens of Gratitude, is one of the many books available at Beyond Text.

    I am quite pleased with the placement of my book in the store. Through the Lens… shares a shelf with James Clear’s New York Times bestseller Atomic Habits. And it sits on the shelf directly above another New York Times bestseller, How to Know a Person, by David Brooks. Copies of both of these books have been in the “to be read” collection on my home office desk for quite some time. I have no illusions that my book will become a New York Times bestseller, but it’s nice to know that I’m in good company at Beyond Text Bookstore.

    How important is a local bookstore? British author, David Almond, wrote, “A good bookshop is not just about selling books from shelves, but reaching out into the world and making a difference.” This is precisely what Tanya hopes to accomplish through her new venture at Beyond Text.

    Robert Frost once said, “The first thing I do in any town I come to is ask if it has a bookstore.” The legendary poet would be pleased to know that, once again, the answer in Los Gatos is “Yes!”

    Beyond Text Bookstore is located at 318 N. Santa Cruz Avenue in downtown Los Gatos. The business is open Tuesdays through Sundays from 10 AM to 6 PM, and closed on Mondays. If you live in the South Bay, or if you’ll be visiting the Santa Clara Valley in the near future, I invite and encourage you to visit downtown Los Gatos. Stop by the bookstore, say hello to Tanya, peruse the selection of books, then enjoy breakfast, lunch, or dinner at one of the many local eateries. The Town of Los Gatos has one of the most appealing downtowns in the greater San Francisco Bay Area. And now, once again, it has a bookstore!

  • Sad to See

    “Expectation
    is the root
    of all heartache.”
    William Shakespeare

    In June of 1979, I graduated from Santa Clara University and moved into a small, two-bedroom house on Lincoln Street in Santa Clara. It was yet another one of those undeserved gifts with which I’ve been blessed in my life. The owner, Mr. Edwin Moore, was the retired superintendent of the Santa Clara Mission Cemetery, the entrance to which was just two doors down from the front door of the residence. Mr. Moore lived in Santa Cruz, but he owned fourteen houses in all. He also had fourteen grandchildren. Upon his death, each grandchild would inherit a house. I lived in the home at 431 Lincoln Street for seven years.

    The market-rate rent for the house at that time was about $750/month. Mr. Moore didn’t need the money. He just wanted to be certain that his tenants would take good care of the property. He informed me that the rent I would pay would be only $200/month, but asked that I take good care of the lawns (front and back) and the garden. I assured him that the landscaping would be well cared for. With the rent being so low, I hired a professional gardener to keep everything green and thriving. The property always looked incredibly nourished and well-kept. I used to enjoy coming home at the end of the day, sitting in the captain’s chair on the front porch, and watering the lawn. It was a time of solitude in otherwise hectic days.

    I was out for a walk on Wednesday. I walked from our home to Santa Clara University, a fairly straight shot down Saratoga Avenue. When I got to Lincoln Street, I took a quick detour to check out the old house. All I can say is that Mr. Moore would be disappointed with the way it looks today.

    The grandson who inherited 431 Lincoln Street eventually sold the property. I don’t know if the occupant today is a renter or owner. What I do know, as is evident in the photo above, is that keeping the outside of the property looking good is not a priority for them. To see the house in this condition generated a feeling of melancholy in me. I know Mr. Moore, who passed away back in the early ‘80s, no longer owns the home. Nor does his grandson. Still, I know how much pride he took in the appearance of the property. The grass in front of 431 Lincoln, which had been lush, thick, and brilliant green, is now overrun with weeds. Weeds have also taken over the narrow strip of garden along the front and side of the house, areas which used to be home to a variety of plants and vegetables.

    I should have no expectations that the current owner or renter should care for the property the way Mr. Moore would have liked — and, yet, I do. I wish I could tell the responsible party about the history of the house (it was originally located on Market Street where Santa Clara University’s high-rise dormitory, Swig Hall, now stands.) I wish I could tell them about Mr. Moore, about his kindness and generosity, and about how much it meant to him that the landscaping of the property be well-maintained. I wish I could convince them that it’s not too late for this house to regain the charm it once had in the neighborhood.

    Expectations? Shakespeare was right. As the writer, Richard Preston, wrote, “The ideal and the reality don’t always match up.”

  • Core Values

    “Your core values are
    the deeply-held beliefs
    that authentically describe
    your soul.” 
    John C. Maxwell

    I’ve often been asked if I write a blog post and then find an image to support it, or if I select an image and then write a blog post. My answer is always the same. “Yes!” I have done both. Today’s blog post is based on this image I came across yesterday. I’d never seen it before, but it is one to which I can easily relate.

    Those who know me, or who have followed my writing, are well aware of my focus on gratitude. Two months ago, I published my fifth book, A Focus on Gratitude. 

    Hopefully, my passion for gratitude is clearly evident, not only in the things I write, but in how I live my life. It hasn’t always been this way. For much of my life, I took people and things for granted. For many years, I had convinced myself that my accomplishments were my own — achievements for which I could take full credit. Fortunately, I was able to outgrow this self-centered mindset and realize that everything I’ve accomplished in my lifetime has depended upon many other individuals, without whom such success would never have been possible.

    Yes, I am grateful. I grew up in a loving, nurturing family. I received an excellent education at every level. Tremendous opportunities became available to me, not because of my stellar qualifications or accomplishments, but out of the genuine kindness of others. I met and married a woman who is my friend, soulmate, and confidant. We were blessed with three sons who, despite the predictable challenges of adolescence, have grown up to be responsible, contributing members of society. And the icing on the cake has been the opportunity to know and love our five grandchildren. As I said, I have much for which to be grateful.

    It’s been said that what we focus on is what we see. When we focus on the negativity in the world, it is clearly evident to us. When we choose to focus on the good in the world, it’s amazing how much good we are able to recognize around us day to day. This is why, for me, a focus on gratitude is critical to my overall well-being. This is also why I choose to see the world today Through the Lens of Gratitude.

    Passion? That’s a strong word, yet I don’t hesitate to use it to refer to my motivation to write and speak about gratitude. I want to share the gratitude I experience with others. I want to encourage others to recognize the many blessings in their own lives for which they can be grateful. Most of all, I want to motivate people to express their gratitude to others, especially to those responsible for those blessings in their lives. As American novelist, Gertrude Stein, wrote, “Silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone.”    

  • The Beat Goes On

    “It’s such a shame
    to waste time.
    We always think we
    have so much of it.”
    Mitch Albom

    As I approach my 70th birthday, these prophetic words by Mitch Albom, from his book For One More Day, ring true. I have always believed that I have plenty of time to do all the things I’ve wanted to do in my life. And why shouldn’t I? I was young! As it always does, however, time marches on, and with each passing day, my youthfulness gets increasingly more distant in the rear-view mirror of life. 

    Tomorrow, my oldest son, Tom, turns 38. Four days later, Steve will celebrate his 36th birthday. When I was actively involved in pastoral ministry, the term “young adult” was defined as men and women between the ages of 18 and 35. So even my two older sons are, by definition, no longer young adults. I could find this to be a bit unsettling, but I don’t.

    When I was 18, I loved being 18. When I was 24, I thoroughly enjoyed being 24. The same can be said for every age of my life. Even turning 65, qualifying for Social Security and Medicare, I was at peace with being 65. I can honestly say the same is true as I approach 70. Am I old? No. Not at all. I’m getting older, yes, but I’m not old.

    Just for fun, I looked up the word “old” on Dictionary.com. I was a bit surprised to find that there are 25 different definitions for the word “old” used as an adjective. Not surprisingly, the first few referred to being of advanced age. Definition #9 was a bit bothersome: “overfamiliar to the point of tedium.” Well, some of my stories and jokes might fit into this category, but I hope this definition doesn’t describe me! Definition #12, “no longer in general use” certainly doesn’t apply to me. Definitions #18 and #19, “experienced” and “of long standing” would be accurate. But #21 is downright insulting: “deteriorated through age or long use; worn, decayed, or dilapidated.” I don’t like this definition at all.

    Of all the definitions for “old” offered on Dictionary.com, my favorite is #23: “sedate, sensible, mature, or wise.” This is a definition I can fully embrace, for it is how I would describe myself at this point in my life. 

    I’m firmly convinced that “old” is not an age. It’s a mindset. A person is old when he believes that he has little to offer the world and those around him. A person is old when he has no vision of a preferred future. A person is old when he convinces himself that his life is no longer of value. This is why, despite the fact that I’m well aware that I am getting older, I am not old.

    Getting back to Mitch Albom’s quote (above), I know that my time on this earth is limited. According to the 2021 report on Mortality in the United States published by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, the average life expectancy for an American male is 73.5 years. This could be an alarming statistic for me, but I have to remember that my Dad lived to the age of 82 and my Mom passed away just a month before her 93rd birthday. I’m also in better physical condition today than I’ve been in the past 45 years. Does this guarantee that I’ll live for twenty more years? No, not at all. Such guarantees don’t exist. When my time comes, it will come, whether I’m 72 or 102. Until then, I’ll do my best to keep my mind, body, and spirit in good working order. 

  • Tick, tick, tick,…

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

    The clock is tick, tick, ticking….
    Time is running out
    on Poetry Month ’24.
    No time to mill about.
    I need to think of something now
    that’s thoughtful and worthwhile.
    The month is almost over, so
    my thoughts I must compile.

    Tomorrow is the first of May —
    a special month, for sure.
    The temperatures are warming up,
    but this we can endure.
    In California, spring and summer
    don’t get too severe.
    In fact, the weather’s perfect
    for a barbecue and beer!

    We’ll celebrate some birthdays,
    and some graduations, too.
    I’ll also plan a book launch,
    which is something I should do.
    Through the Lens of Gratitude
    is selling very well.
    How successful will it be?
    I simply can’t foretell.

    The most important thing right now?
    To focus on the good
    that people do throughout the world
    and in their neighborhood.
    The world is never perfect,
    there will always be despair,
    but each of us, in many ways,
    can show how much we care.

    A simple act of kindness,
    or a word to heal one’s soul.
    These are things we all can do,
    so this should be our goal.
    As April ends, and May begins,
    let’s make our attitude
    a gift of positivity
    with heartfelt gratitude.

     

  • Oh, Henry!

    “One of the most powerful
    handclasps is that of a
    new grandbaby around the
    finger of a grandfather.”
    Joy Hargrove

    He’s happy. He smiles. He sleeps well. For the most part, he’s quite content. He is loved more than he will ever know. He’s Henry, our fifth grandchild.

    Henry is three months old. He enjoys the attention he gets from his two sisters. He likes being outside, where he can see the trees and feel the spring breeze against his face. He also seems to enjoy books. It appears that he is able to stay focused on the colorful images on the pages of the different books being read to him.

    Henry is still an infant. Eventually, he will become a toddler, then a little boy. From there, he will endure the challenges of adolescence and young adulthood before transitioning into full adulthood. Developmentally, that’s how it happens. There are no short-cuts.

    Two things you will never hear me say to Henry: (1) “Hey, little man!” and (2) “C’mon, Henry, man up!” I find both of these phrases to be grossly inappropriate things to say to a young boy. Many might consider them to be cute little phrases not to be taken literally. I understand. In reality, though, they send the wrong message about the developmental realities of little boys. 

    In her highly-acclaimed book, Let Boys Be Kids First, licensed marriage and family therapist Raelene Weaver writes, “There’s so much pressure on boys to act and be like ‘real men’: to grow up, to man up, to be strong, stoic, and never complain — to be a man in a boy’s body.” She reminds readers that in doing so, we are doing these young boys a tremendous disservice. Before they will ever be developmentally capable of acting like men, they must be allowed to be the little boys that they are. As the title of the book so eloquently warns us, we need to “Let Boys Be Kids First.”

    Weaver tells us that “we must let boys know it’s okay to be sad or scared and feel all their emotions, and that we’re here to support them.” These types of emotions are not signs of weakness in the child. Rather, they are reminders that the young boy is human, and that he deserves the freedom to express the full range of his humanness in age-appropriate ways.

    In his book, Real Boys’ Voices, Dr. William Pollack acknowledges that in our society, there is an expectation that boys be tougher and less emotional than girls. Raelene Weaver agrees, stating, “We must focus on our boys being good human beings and not worry so much about the man box… Everyone should feel safe enough to have all their feelings. Feelings are human and normal.”

    Getting back to Henry for a moment, I am grateful for the opportunity to be a five-time “Papa.” Grandparenting is an amazing gift. I agree with the words of Mary H. Waldrip, who wrote, “Grandchildren are God’s way of compensating us for growing old.”

    And while some might believe that becoming a grandparent makes one feel old, I disagree wholeheartedly. Instead, I embrace the words of former newspaper editor G. Norman Collie. He wrote, “Children don’t make a man feel old; it’s the knowledge that he’s married to a grandmother.” 

  • A Shoe on the Bus

    “The soul is healed
    by being with children.”
    Fyodor Dostoevsky

    It was a short, simple afternoon excursion. When she finished her nap yesterday, I took Scarlett on her first bus ride — a 1.4 mile journey on the #25 VTA bus to the Starbucks store on Winchester Boulevard in San José. As I’d expected, she thoroughly enjoyed the experience. The vehicle rumbled down Williams Road, stopped at two stoplights and one stop sign, and even hit a fairly large pothole, tossing riders slightly into the air and prompting Scarlett to shout out, “Pothole!” (She learned this from all the make-believe “bus rides” she and her sister, Penny, have taken on Papa’s lap.) Several of the passengers had a good laugh when they heard her comment.

    When we arrived at the corner of Winchester and Magliocco, we disembarked the bus carefully. From there, I carried Scarlett across the street to the Starbucks store.

    Once inside, I put her down and ordered two hot chocolates and two cake pops. We sat in the store enjoying our post-nap treat for quite a while before a customer looked down at Scarlett’s feet and mentioned to me, “Your little girl only has one shoe.”

    I looked down. Indeed, Scarlett was wearing only one shoe. I looked under the table. It was not there. When we finished our snack, we backtracked to the bus stop at Magliocco. No shoe. Apparently, Scarlett had kicked the shoe off while we were on the bus, something (I learned after we returned home) she does quite regularly in the car. 

    “Scarlett, your shoe is still on the bus. By now, it’s probably in East San José!” The news didn’t seem to faze her. She simply stated, “Shoe… bus ride.”

    She understood that the shoe, one of her favorite Frozen-themed shoes (see matching shoe in the photo below), was gone, and most likely not coming back home. Still, she didn’t seem overly concerned.

    When we returned home, Scarlett announced to her Uncle B, “Shoe… bus ride.” When Kathy came into the room, Scarlett proudly shared the news. “Shoe… bus ride.” And when her Dad and Mom returned home, she excitedly informed them, “Shoe… bus ride.”

    Yes, the shoe is gone. I could probably call the VTA lost and found today to see if a random Frozen shoe was turned in at the end of the night. In fact, I probably will make that call, but I don’t expect to see it again.

    I’m thinking that, perhaps, it might be time for me to write another children’s book. Scarlett’s Shoe Rides the Bus could be a bestseller in 2025. The shoe could tell readers about its exciting experience of riding the #25 bus from West San José to the Alum Rock Transit Center, and probably back again. It could describe the diversity of riders it encountered along the way, share some of the conversations it overheard, and maybe even tell readers a little something about those passengers who picked it up, looked at it, and put it back on the floor of the bus again. Who knows? Maybe the book would earn a Caldecott or Newbery Medal!!!  

    My soul was most definitely healed by spending the afternoon with Scarlett yesterday.

  • Kids on CalTrain

    “Intelligence plus character —
    that is the goal of
    true education.” 
    Martin Luther King, Jr.

    Imagine spending a relaxing Wednesday afternoon at the ball park watching the San Francisco Giants play the New York Mets. Imagine, prior to the game, enjoying a delicious lunch with a loved one at Frankie’s Java House, just a short walk from Oracle Park. Then imagine strolling down the stadium concourse, at the start of the seventh inning, to get a Ghirardelli Chocolate Sundae, topped with whipped cream and a cherry. Pretty nice day, right?

    Now imagine that the game has ended and you’re boarding CalTrain for the ride back to the South Bay. You’re comfortably seated as others board the train after you. The passenger car fills up quickly. All the seats are taken, yet more riders are climbing aboard. Then imagine that, among those riders who are boarding, a fairly large group of middle school kids realize that their only options for their ride from San Francisco to Redwood City are standing in the middle aisle or sitting on the steps leading to the upper deck of the train car. Yeah, ugh, right?

    Throughout my seventy years on this earth, I’ve learned that pleasant surprises can happen anywhere and any time. This was my experience yesterday. The students were sixth, seventh, and eighth grade students from Hoover Elementary School in Redwood City. They were quiet. They were polite. They were enjoying each other’s company. They were talking, and laughing, and making the best of what could have been a difficult experience. No one would have blamed them if they were irritable or annoying. They had spent the previous three hours in the fresh air at the ball park. I’m sure they were tired. I’m sure they would have preferred to have seats to sit on, rather than standing in the aisle. Yet these children, all of them, continued to enjoy their outing. These children were not disruptive or self-absorbed in any way. These children represented their school, their teachers, their administrators, and their parents in ways that would make them all proud. I could not have been more impressed.

    Hoover Elementary School is approximately 95% Hispanic/Latino. It’s not an elite, private school at which students enjoy all the amenities of a high-end academic institution. Perhaps this is why they took CalTrain to The City for the game, rather than enjoying the comfort and privacy of a chartered bus.

    I wrote a brief email to the principal last night, commending her students, and their adult chaperones, for their exemplary behavior on the train. All too often, principals hear from members of the community only when students have been misbehaving. I think it’s important that we recognize and acknowledge kids being good. Hopefully they will always remember that their good behavior was noticed… and appreciated.

  • A New Day

    “When you wake up in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love.” 
    ~ Marcus Aurelius

    When is the last time you were consciously grateful for the fact that you woke up to a new day? For most, I would think, this is one of the many things we take for granted. Yet we all know that waking up each morning is a gift.

    On any given day, we may learn of the unexpected death of a friend or loved one. It might be a close relative, or perhaps your child’s preschool teacher. No one is exempt from the possibility of having our life end at any time.

    Take some time today to reflect, with gratitude, on the fact that you woke up this morning. Take some time to appreciate that your spouse, children, grandchildren, best friend, neighbor, coworker, dentist, or favorite barista is alive and well today. And if the opportunity presents itself, let these individuals know how grateful you are to have them in your life. 

    Gratitude makes a difference!