Amid all the hand -wringing and finger-pointing about Catholic education — or jaded memories thereof — a voice of sanity is finally being heard.

Some warm words for the women who taught us, from Rocco:

Far too often, all the fleeting barrels of ink and reams of copy shed too little light on the reality that, more than any other force within its walls, American Catholicism literally owes its life to the energy, devotion and selfless service — in other words, the constant “yes” — of the generations of women religious who’ve built and sustained the church, not through the flashy ease of brick-laying, but where it counts most: in the unsung search for and care of its living stones.

To this day, the sisters might still outnumber the clergy by almost 2 to 1. But more often than not, the account of their works remains known but to God and the many whose lives they’ve each touched. What’s more, there’s arguably no apostolate of the church in this country — be it chancery or classroom, health care or homeless shelter, parish or prison — that wouldn’t collapse in seconds were it not for the gifts of their presence and commitment.

In sum, they’re our heart and soul, brains and backbone, the first exemplars of our compassion, competence, integrity and credibility — and I’m sure my mother is far from alone in being named for an especially beloved and radiant one (a Sister of Mercy who’s still well, kicking and on top of everything… at the youthful age of 97).

Far too often, for all they do, we have failed to appreciate our silent heroines as they deserve… even as time’s shown that their knack for making the impossible happen in this life is merely the beginning.

There’s much more, and I encourage you to read it. And say a prayer for all those women — the bold and the beautiful, and the beatified — who gave and expected nothing in return.