Well now, my dear SMOS families—can it really be the end of August already?! I swear, this summer was shorter than the kilt on my cousin Dougal back in 1025. One moment I was dusting off my sandals for a proper Boca holiday with Bernie and Terry, and the next moment—poof!—I was back here at school, rattling the lockers and humming Taylor Swift tunes in the hallways.
And before you ask—did I actually make it to Boca this year? Och, if only. We three lassies showed up at the airport in our finest resort wear, only to discover that one of us (and mind you, no one is admitting who) had forgotten to actually purchase the airfare. Can you imagine? Three saints, stranded at the Southwest counter, bickering like schoolgirls. “I thought you were in charge, Maggie!” “No, no, that was Bernie’s job!” “Well, Terry always writes things down!” Of course, none of us can remember a thing—we’re old, and selective amnesia is the privilege of our age.
So instead of sunning myself on the beaches of Boca, I spent the summer sunning myself in the glow of the television, working through all four seasons of Welcome Back, Kotter. By July, I was practically a Sweathog myself—and when anyone complained about summer being too short, I just wagged my ghostly finger and said, “Up your nose with a rubber hose!” Also, why is that theme song so damn catchy?!?! 🎶 Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back 🎶
But such is the life of a ghostly saint with a calendar fuller than the dessert table at a fish fry. Back in my day—aye, the early 11th century—we didn’t have calendars, let alone summer camps and soccer sign-ups. Our “after-school activities” were limited to sheep wrangling, hymn singing, and the occasional Viking invasion. Much simpler, though admittedly less air-conditioned.
So here I am again, ready for another year of your questions, quandaries, and confessions. Some of you are new to our little community, so allow me to reintroduce myself: I’m Maggie, the tartan-clad spirit of St. Margaret of Scotland, living here at SMOS for nearly a millennium. I’ve got two best pals—St. Bernadette (Bernie) and St. Theresa (Terry)—and together we dispense wisdom, wit, and occasionally questionable advice 😬. I’m a quasi-famous ghost with a knack for the inside scoop, a touch of sass, and more than a few pop culture obsessions—and trust me, I’ve lived through more eras than Taylor Swift (you should know by now somehow, everything always comes back to her).
Each week, you’ll send me your burning questions, and I’ll do my level best to answer with honesty, humor, and a dash of ghostly perspective. Whether you’re wondering how to survive the school drop-off line, what saint to pray to for missing gym shorts, or why your group chat has more notifications than a teenager’s TikTok, I’m your gal.
Send your questions to me at maggie@stmargaretstl.org and don’t be shy. After all, if I can survive both 1025 Scotland and navigating volunteer sign-up sheets, surely I can handle whatever you parents throw my way. (By the way—have you filled out the volunteer survey?? Have you? Have you? Get to it!)
Now then, sharpen those pencils, pack those lunches, and gird your loins—because another school year is here, ready or not. And remember: even on the craziest days, faith, friendship, and a wee bit of humor will see us through.
— Maggie 👻