One Sunday, as my parents rummaged around the kitchen preparing dinner, I kept hearing, “Bailey, no! . . . Off the counter! . . . Bailey! That’s not for you; don’t eat that! . . . Down, Bailey!” Our one-year-old red lab puppy, Bailey, loves helping out in the kitchen. Sensing my parents’ irritation, I got up from my lazy nap and took the crazy pup outside for some exercise.

As she got closer, I wondered when she was going to put on the brakes. I was convinced she was going to run right past me, but boy, was I wrong. She ran full force right into me, taking me out at the knees, leaving me face down in the dirt. As she circled back, I looked up to her smiling face, still holding on to that blue Frisbee and wagging her tail in satisfaction. I swear she was laughing at me while I laid on my stomach, trying to catch the wind that had been knocked out of me.

You can only imagine my frustration at this point. Brushing the dirt off my knees, I wanted to attack. Revenge, I thought. However, Bailey is much quicker than I am – I call it the four-leg advantage. In the end, I knew she’d outrun me. Instead of attempting an attack, I laughed along with her, grabbing her Frisbee for another round of fetch.

The decision to pick up the Frisbee and leave my frustration behind taught me a lesson about my work and school life.

In a recent class, we were discussing how November tends to be a time of high stress for students, faculty and staff. With the excitement of the new academic year having faded and people settled into their routines, stress begins to rise. Spring semester is broken up with a weeklong break, but it seems as though we plow through the fall with few days off, allowing stress to build. These high levels of stress prove to have negative effects both mentally and physically.

To prevent sickness and mental breakdowns, it is important for us to recognize stressful situations, such as being leveled by one’s dog, and realize there are two ways to deal with it: we either can attack the dog in revenge or we can laugh it off, knowing everything will be okay.

This lesson is a time-old classic, but always a good reminder: grab that Frisbee and continue playing fetch.

As a back-stage, behind-the-scenes, on-stage and fully engaged participant in the Opus Prize preparations and production, I say, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Such a grand event provided all who attended mountainous lessons and elephantine emotions. Here are a few of the reflections and comments both overheard and intentionally noted during and after last Wednesday evening’s event.

From a student who I don’t know but who stopped me on the sidewalk near Murray-Herrick the next day and was smiling so largely it was as if her joy were bubbling over: “I just wanted to tell you that last night was completely amazing … I learned so much about myself and feel like I can change the world!”

From another student, not one I had met before, who went out of his way while walking with a group of his friends in the halls of OEC: “I’m feeling completely inspired.”

From one of my own COJO 111: Communication and Citizenship students (yes, they received extra credit for attending, but are so inspiring themselves that they probably didn’t need such a carrot): “I used to think I had to have it all figured out. What I was majoring in; what I was going to do with my life. I realized after last night (listening to the award winners) that I can do anything I want to do! I can change the world, and I can do so at any time!”

From my 4th-grade daughter, sitting next to her teenage brother and my husband: “I’d like to get going on that Toys for Tots collection campaign to help children who don’t have toys. I really like what those people are doing.”

From a choir member who I had in class last year: “I wasn’t sure if I was going to enjoy sitting through the entire event on those hard bleachers on stage. Oh my gosh! I was totally wrong. Those people are totally amazing. They make me want to do whatever I can to love other people and make a difference in my life!”

And from my own vantage point – having met the candidates, learned of their work and stories, and met for hours with those who went on visits to meet them, film them, write their stories and honor them in the grandest fashion last week – I say this: “Holy cow. What can I do each day to make sure I’m at least trying to meet one of the world’s greatest needs?”

The Opus Prize winners make you want to ask yourself that and similar questions today, again tomorrow and each day thereafter. If you missed the event and want to feel so inspired, take just 21 minutes to view the three, seven-minute videos (www.stthomas.edu/opusprize) produced by Brad Jacobsen, Dave Nimmer and Doug Hennes about the honorees. They will leave you – no doubt – saying, “Wow.”

St. Thomas hosted the 6th annual awards ceremony to honor the work of three social entrepreneurs around the world – unsung heroes who are working to solve society’s most vexing and persistent problems. The winner, Aicha Ech Channa of Morocco, received $1 million and the other two, Sister Valeriana Garcia-Martin of Columbia and Father Hans Stapel of Brazil, each received $100,000.

The crowd at Orchestra Hall in Minneapolis was large and enthusiastic; people got to their feet for a half-dozen standing ovations.

The video stories of the three winners and their organizations were graceful.

The introductions of each honoree by St. Thomas students were insightful – and the remarks from master of ceremonies Carol Breuss and Father Dennis Dease were thoughtful.

“They had a grand vision and, just as importantly, a steely resolve to make life better for those who struggle,” Father Dease said in presenting the Opus awards. “I know that I, for one, will take away from this experience a desire to do more.”

Finally, the organization of the event, right down to the three translators (French, Portuguese and Spanish), was meticulous.

The most impressive part, however, was the winners themselves: Aicha and Association Solidarité Féminine and its work with single mothers and their children; Sister Valeriana and Hogares Luz y Vida and its work with children who have physical and mental disabilities; and Father Hans and Fazenda da Esperanca and its treatment centers for drug and alcohol addicts.

The work of the three is inspired by their faith in God, their belief that they can change things, their unbridled optimism and their loving concern for fellow human beings. All this made for a feel-good evening, a testament to what good people can do to improve the human condition—with a combination of compassion, concern and courage.

Most encouraging was the number of students in the audience – I estimate at least a couple of hundred – and their enthusiasm over the winners. One of those students was junior Sahr Brima, who met Father Hans on a due-diligence trip to Brazil and introduced him to the Orchestra Hall audience.

“My experience in Brazil exposed me to the power of faith lived out and the indomitable nature of love. Father Hans and Nelson (Giovanelli) are addressing socioeconomic and spiritual needs in people around the world,” Sahr said. “I pray that God will use me in a similar capacity.”

One of my long-time friends, Sister Mary Frances Reis of the Visitation Monastery of North Minneapolis, attended the ceremony and called Thursday morning. “Dave,” she said, “did you look at the faces of those in the videos, the teenagers and the children? I really do believe you could look into them and see the face of the Lord.”

She may be right. I looked into the faces of the winners and saw someone my age – Medicare eligible – still behaving as though they were just starting the race. That means I’m still in the running.

In short, she is an extremely remarkable woman, and I will be absolutely honored to see her again at the Opus Prize event on Wednesday evening. I also look forward to meeting the other two finalists for the $1 million Opus Prize: Aïcha Ech Channa of Casablanca, Morocco, and Father Hans Stapel of Guaratinguetá, Brazil.

During our visit to Colombia, we did not tell Sister Valeriana that we represented a Minnesota foundation interested in awarding her a substantial sum for her charitable work. However, it was a struggle to explain our presence in sufficiently vague terms in case the visit would be affected by the knowledge of our endeavor. In any case, we witnessed the work of her organization on an ordinary day – and what we witnessed was truly extraordinary.

Sister Valeriana led us into the rooms where the children slept. The rooms were filled with vibrant, playful bedspreads, which the children shared with a host of delightful stuffed animals. I chuckled when one boy about five years old showed me his secret collection of trading cards (stored under the mattress for safekeeping, of course).

It was humbling to hear that most of these children had been abandoned after birth by parents who were unwilling or unable to carry the burdens associated with their disabilities. Sister Valeriana said that even though she was cramped for space, she would not hesitate to find room for another such child when the need arose.

You will hear many more humbling and amazing stories Wednesday evening if you take the time to head to Orchestra Hall. Please join me!

The latest example came out of the blue last week from Jean Stack of St. Cloud, who, with her children, had a chance encounter on Oct. 17 with four St. Thomas students at the China Star Buffet in St. Cloud. She didn’t know who they were, but believed they had been at the St. Thomas-St. John’s football game that afternoon in nearby Collegeville. They were wearing St. Thomas t-shirts.

“I wanted to go up to them and let them know how impressed I was by them, but I didn’t want to risk embarrassing them. I still can’t help but think about them today and felt it was necessary to somehow let them know what an awesome impression they left on me. Their manners with their waiter also were very polite.”

Stack said she hopes that her own teen-aged sons behave appropriately in such situations, “but you often don’t know what they do when ‘mom’ isn’t around.”

She concluded: “I would like for them and their parents to know what great guys I think they are! Also let them know that they are now included in my prayers.”

Mine, too.

Other schools that have hosted the foundation include Marquette, the University of San Francisco, Notre Dame and Catholic University. So it’s an honor for St. Thomas to be chosen by Opus as a partner in recognizing unsung heroes who deal with society’s most persistent social problems.

What I don’t want you to forget is a campus organization that also is dealing with a persistent social problem: the lack of people of color working in newsrooms, public relations and ad agencies across the country. Trying to raise those numbers is the goal of ThreeSixty, the fledgling non-profit that’s been at St. Thomas since 2001. Its annual fundraiser comes two days after the Opus event – Friday evening, Nov. 6, in Binz Refectory.

Thirteen of those students are attending St. Thomas, part of the 14-percent undergraduate student of color enrollment. That’s an eye-popping figure, consistent with President Dennis Dease’s goal to be a university reflecting the fabric of the metro area that is its home.

Six of the ThreeSixty grads since 2001 are working in newsrooms. Dhomonique Ricks is a reporter and weekend anchor at a television station in Lynchburg, Va., where she got her start this summer after graduating from the University of Missouri’s broadcast program.

She sent a videotape to Lynda McDonnell, executive director of ThreeSixty, to show at the Nov. 6 fundraiser. Watching it, I couldn’t help but feel the pride and passion she has as a reporter, taking the viewer on a tour of her newsroom. In six months, she’s covered fires and floods, features and festivals, murders and mishaps. She looks into the camera and says, “I absolutely love what I do.”

Chandler Sentell, a COJO senior at St. Thomas, shares the feeling – albeit with more limited experience. Sentell, who attended the ThreeSixty journalism camp in 2005, spent last summer as an intern in the KARE television newsroom.

“I feel I learned a lot and got some experience,” he said. “They let me write some short stories and I was able to watch how people did their jobs. I loved it.”

One of his mentors at KARE was Matt Lechner, a St. Thomas grad and the morning news producer. He’s a news veteran and a good writer. The news vice president at KARE is a fan of Lechner’s and also took note of the enthusiasm that Sentell had for his internship.

What made that remarkable is that Chandler had to be at KARE every Monday and Tuesday for his shift at 4 a.m. Yep, 4 in the morning. And he still wants to be a broadcast news reporter.

Now that’s a testimonial to ThreeSixty – and the kind of young men and women it helps down the road.

P.S. Want tickets to the ThreeSixty fundraiser on Nov. 6 – 6-8:30 p.m. in the Binz Refectory? Get tickets here

“Tommie Days” unfolded right outside my office on the first floor of OEC last Thursday and Friday. The sounds of our helpful Admissions counselors answering similar if not identical questions over and over again, each time with an authentic smile in their voice, filled the halls. As I eavesdropped in between meeting current students and – I’ll admit – snacking on a cookie or two, I experienced a real source of sweetness on our campus. Yes, define the term “sweet” however you will: “awesome,” “delightful,” “pleasing to the senses” or “gratifying.” I think the work of our Admissions staff is all that, and more.

I have no clue. But what I do know is that our Admissions team is one well-run and energy-filled group doing some really important and hard work: representing the work of the rest of us! It isn’t easy work (I can make that claim with a bit of expertise, being married to a guy who works with Admissions at a nearby university). It sure is important work. And it’s hard work, especially in these tough economic times. Yet they make it look easy.

Great work, Admissions! We appreciate what you do.

For some reason, I had a number of conversations recently with St. Thomas employees about their feelings regarding the university. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the high unemployment rate. Maybe it’s the overall economic uncertainty. Maybe it’s just that stage in people’s lives and employment.

Attitudes varied.

Another administrator and a faculty member told similar stories of considering employment elsewhere but rejecting the move because of the sense of community and shared mission here.

I heard both a faculty member and a staff member express concerns about being asked increasingly to do more and more. I asked why they thought that happened. The answer was that they didn’t think anyone knew quite how much they do. Perhaps there’s a lesson there: we need to make a better effort to realize what other people’s responsibilities are before we ask for more or for different.

A staff member was grateful that in troubled times St. Thomas has not laid anyone off, reduced pay or resorted to involuntary furloughs. Survey data indicate that we all have a similar hierarchy of issues that we complain about in the job. When salary is adequate, we complain about benefits, work conditions, the boss. When the pay is too low, fewer people mention the lesser irritations. Everything pales in comparison with having no job at all.

Another told me that the caring and supportive members of his unit made all the difference to him in his consideration of his employer. I’ve read studies that show the No. 1 factor in how much we enjoy our job is the people with whom we work closely.

A long-time faculty member noted how the sense of commitment has changed over time, observing that newer faculty are less involved. When I suggested that might be because they didn’t have the half-century here that she and I shared, she said the new faculty just didn’t feel appreciated enough; that the evaluation process has created a wedge. I’ve heard similar complaints about the pay-for-performance standards on the staff side. Sometimes it is hard to say how much we appreciate someone for fear of sounding sappy. (Veronica, you do a terrific job and I am grateful.)

I remember in the old days, then-president Terrence Murphy would compare St. Thomas to a family. The implication was that we all pulled together no matter what. When disaster struck one of us, we all pitched in. If we had a fight, we still loved each other.

That may have been true when the institution was smaller and more homogenous. I’m not sure. But by the time I arrived, I don’t think family was an accurate comparison. Most of the time I’ve been here, I’d say the better comparison would be to a small town. Especially with tenure, faculty are unlikely to move out. Young people do move on. When disputes arise, we have to figure out how to live with each other after the storm passes. No one is moving down the road, but there isn’t the tie of love or blood that keeps us together. Fairness is important. When one suffers, others suffer. We know a lot of each other’s business. Okay, we gossip.

Contemplating my employer, I recalled the reasons I came here 28 years ago. The landscaping – it indicated a financially solid institution. The other economists – their interactions told me that St. Thomas is a community of caring and respect. The purple trash cans – I love purple.

The trash cans are gone, but I am still here. Those other two reasons count for a lot.

Who doesn’t love the fall colors, or getting hopelessly lost in a corn maze, and you can’t beat the feeling of sleeping with the windows wide open, allowing the cold, crisp air to force you under a mound of blankets you haven’t seen since last winter. There is also excitement and energy as campus comes back to life, and that’s why I love the month and all the promises of the new academic year.

Also, let’s be real: walking to work through campus on a nice, sunny September afternoon can be cruel. I wanted to be with students sitting on the grass, chatting about weekend plans, playing Frisbee or procrastinating over homework. I miss the days of shuffling between classes, being on the tennis team, study parties in the library and decking out in my Gustie gear to cheer on the fall sport teams; yes, I am aware St. Thomas may have beat us at almost every sport, but I still have my Gustie pride. September served as a reminder that I was no longer an undergraduate student. Graduate school is great and all, but it’s all academics minus the fun.

Lucky for me, I was able to find a career path that allows me to be part of the college community. As I enter my second year working as a graduate assistant in the Office of Campus Life, my concerns with being a college graduate have faded, and I have come to love working with college students even more than being one.

The students at St. Thomas never cease to impress me with the dedication and professionalism in their everyday activities. Working next door to the student leadership offices, I get to see firsthand all the hard work and passion the students put into their roles to help make St. Thomas great and to serve others, along with developing their own character.

In the book No Neutral Ground, Robert B. Young states, “Higher education does not make people equal. That goal is too low. Instead, the aim is to increase the development of individuality.”

The opportunities St. Thomas gives to students are doing just that: developing individuality. What they are doing outside of the classroom, paired with their academics, is developing as a whole. I cannot help but be excited to come into work every day to hear new ideas from students and guide them through the process of making their ideas a reality. Fishing Club? Entrepreneurial Society? Colleges Against Cancer? Women’s Water Polo? Let’s do it! Here’s how.

As I reflect further, I realize I may have more love for September than sorrow. Working with students and watching them grow, along with my own growth, has proven to be an even greater experience than my days in college. I can honestly say the spirit and sense of community I feel at St. Thomas has loosened my Gustie pride and made me proud to put on my purple every Tuesday.

Don’t get me wrong, though. I still would rather be outside playing catch on a warm September afternoon than sitting in front of my lonely office computer. Thankfully, the colder October weather is bringing students back into the buildings, keeping me company.

Although we’ve always adored living adjacent to campus, last weekend proved to be an exciting opportunity to fully embrace the richness and to witness the extent to which we really do live in – to borrow Father Dease’s recent words – the best place. Our newfound appreciation of life in the neighborhood was all thanks to our dying “Big Old Tree.”

Being the glass-half-full types, my neighbors and I quickly organized a party to bid farewell to our “Big Old Tree.” We gathered last weekend around her mighty trunk. We lifted our glasses in her honor and, well, we stayed up way past our bedtimes. It was a night none of us will soon forget. Why? What? Do tell!

It was, quite simply, one of those magical evenings “in the neighborhood,” a blending of young and old, early and late, musical and lyrical, chit and chat, alive and (nearly) dead (the tree, that is). Our hearts were warmed by students who added words of adoration (“We’ll miss you, Big Old Tree” and “Thanks for being here so long”) to the notes we already had lovingly attached to her massive trunk. We enjoyed the folksy, fabulous music provided by two English professors. Yes, have you heard? Professors Andy Scheiber and Liz Wilkinson are not only smart academics, but talented musicians and songwriters, too! They have a CD and might be willing to play at your parties. A huge thank you to them for making our neighbor party most dreamy. Your debut of “Big Old Tree,” written just for the occasion, brought deep gladness and stirred many emotions. (You can listen and download a free MP3 of “Big Old Tree” at www.tinyurl.com/wilkyjames. Just click on “Additional songs” and then into Andy’s song annex.)

Long after the notes were hung, songs were sung, food devoured and lights strung around the mighty trunk, our neighborhood proceeded to come alive, right before our very eyes. Students enjoying the warm fall air strolled to and from gatherings with friends. Many of them stopped to inquire about our Big Old Tree, taught us “older folks” some of their hip slang and reported about their entrepreneurship majors and journalism minors. We reminded those getting in cars never to drink and drive. Our laughter wafted onto Ashland and Summit. We enjoyed their youthful energy even though it was well past midnight and way past the older folks’ bedtime.

What do you get when you add neighbors + students + live music + a dying tree + lights + markers + love notes + tasty snacks and drinks? A really great reason to live where we do, just a few steps from campus.

They did exactly that on a couple of breaking stories recently. The first was a lockdown at St. Paul College after a student reported seeing a man with a gun. It happened late in the morning, and at 12:55 p.m., tommiemedia.com posted the story. The other example of perseverance and awareness is the updating of the cases of H1N1 flu on campus; Brent Fischer reported that the number doubled in a week. The 90-second video updates look crisp and clean, but they’ll be more interesting when the students roll in video to go with the pictures.

So, I am trying to get with the new media flow. But this past week also has been an opportunity to revel in slow-and-old television – with Ken Burns’ documentary, “The National Parks: American’s Best Idea.”

“Today’s national parks,” says Burns, “had a profound and often spiritual impact on the first settlers who saw them and on the visionaries who fought tirelessly to preserve them as the common property of the American people.”

From the field of wildflowers in a meadow near the crest of Crater Lake to the mud pots of Yellowstone, Burns lets the camera linger. I can almost feel my heart rate slow and my mind ease. I pay attention to the words and the talking heads, especially Shelton Johnson, a U.S. Park Service ranger. Here he is, one of those much-derided “government workers,” with a passion for his job that few could even imagine, much less imitate.

“I remember the first time I arrived at Yellowstone and I got off the bus,” he says to the camera, “. . . and I was stepping down onto the ground and there was a bison walking by – just strolling by.

“And I said to the driver, ‘Does this happen all the time?’ He looked at me and said, ‘All the time.’ And I said to myself, ‘I have arrived. I can’t imagine any other place.’ ”

I was envious – truly envious – of his passion. I had just a fleeting thought: maybe I ought to have been that “forest ranger” I always talked of wanting to be when I was 10.

That’s how it is with slow-and-old media, including that anachronism called a daily newspaper: They make you stop and think.

The unique characteristic of St. Thomas is how it intertwines all elements of life in its curriculum. Opportunities abound to pursue a plethora of academic, artistic, social, athletic and professional interests. This is our greatest strength. Our graduates cannot help but be well-rounded individuals.

Unfortunately, I noticed that some of my friends who walked south through the Arches after graduating last spring were apprehensive to leave the confines of John Ireland’s statue. Some of this hesitancy can be explained by a natural fear of the unknown, but another element may have been at play in their minds: never again would they be challenged in the same way to become a more holistic individual.

In other words, our minds will be pressured to focus our endeavors on our professions. We mostly will leave our freewheeling days behind us in hopes that they have left their mark.

It isn’t a tragedy that we focus on our careers upon receiving a diploma. Rather, it seems a natural part of leaving a campus such as St. Thomas. We cannot be expected to take our excellent education and squander it. Rather, the hope is that our understanding of art, commerce, philosophy, theology, literature and science will benefit us in the long run – in our careers and in life. We will find that that our liberal arts education will pay dividends beyond the realm of salaries and compensation packages. In fact, it is likely that our time spent in the shadows of the Arches will prove very profitable in a variety of ways.

For my part, I plan to make the most of the rest of my time at our university, and I will continue to explore the opportunities that are provided here. Moreover, I will keep in mind that my time is running out. I feel like making a desperate push to take advantage of everything offered by our university while I can.

In closing, I wish to offer this advice to students who have not yet reached their final year: Go join a club in which you are interested, talk to your professors as often as possible, sit down with someone you have never met and eat a meal, play video games less and watch TV as seldom as possible. Go out and experience the richness of our university, or you may regret that your college years, although fantastic, could have been even more rewarding.

Now you might wonder, “What could Susan Alexander – nerd economist, academic, shunner of the limelight – have in common with Ms. Brazile?” A lot, I now think. Furthermore, I’d be willing to bet that almost everyone in that crowd of hundreds who stuffed OEC Auditorium felt a bond with her.

As for my connections with Brazile, they are:

• She precociously began her political career at age nine. She campaigned for a city council member who promised a playground for her neighborhood; he won. I began my political career at a young age as well. At the tender age of five, I fell in love with a candidate who was running for Arkansas attorney general. I was so in love with him that I picked up every flyer he distributed in my small town. Looking back, I don’t think that was the most helpful tactic to further his campaign. He won anyway, but later was removed from office in an oil and natural gas scandal. Because this episode is indicative of my political savvy, maybe Brazile and I don’t have that perfect a bond. Well, Al Gore didn’t win either.

• Then there’s her book, Cooking with Grease. The phrase I always heard was “cooking with gas,” but the idea is the same. And our love of Southern food seems to be the same. Audience members offered recipes for pound cake, pralines, and cornbread. We were one.

• Brazile is a centrist. She says we are a centrist nation. We just haven’t talked that way lately. She called for a return to civility and a search for common ground. She said it was important to listen to both extremes, to learn from them, to respect them as individuals. She related her advice to George Will on Direct TV for maximum baseball coverage. It was all I could do not to leap on to the stage and hug her (and I don’t even like baseball). I don’t think she would have minded.

Other audience members may have felt the same connections or totally different ones. But I know they were connected; you could feel it in the room. I think Brazile may have felt connected to us, too. At the end of the evening, she stayed for photographs – and maybe to collect a recipe or two.

Editor's note: Father Erich Rutten, director of Campus Ministry, contributed this guest column to The Scroll.

We’ve all seen them – quirky, sometimes funny and sometimes annoying bumper stickers.

“Envision whirled peas.” “Dog is my co-pilot.” “When everything’s coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.” But there is at least one bumper sticker that is worth taking to heart: “Practice Random Acts Of Kindness And Senseless Acts Of Beauty.”

Last spring, in the heart of the financial crisis which has impacted so many and in the midst of the tragic disappearance and death of freshman Dan Zamlen, members of our community got together to promote a campaign to support “Acts of Kindness” at UST and in our local community.

This year, let us all make a point to reach out each day by performing at least one act of kindness. It might be as simple as a smile or a hello or lifting up a quick prayer. It might be organizing a food drive in your department or club or organization. It might be sending a card to someone who needs a good word. It might be spending time to listen or time to help.

The Office for Mission and the Human Resources Department, along with representatives from all areas of the UST community, will be promoting “Acts of Kindness” throughout this coming year.

We will hold our first public Acts of Kindness event at noon Thursday with “Flower Power.” Children from the St. Thomas Child Development Center will help us give flowers to passersby in the lower quadrangle of the St. Paul campus as an act of kindness, and will suggest that they pass along the flowers to others as their own act of kindness. In Minneapolis, we will give away flowers in the School of Law atrium and outside the Food for Thought restaurant.

I invite you to visit our new Web site to find ideas and resources, and to send your stories of “acts of kindness” to us at actkind@stthomas.edu. Get involved. Make a difference.

Let’s turn this bumper sticker slogan into a life-giving force for good here at St. Thomas and in our communities.