I grew up in a Catholic family. One of 5 kids. We all sat in the front left pew at Sunday Mass. Every Sunday.
Fast forward many many years, and Lou and I sat in the front left pew with our 3 kids. Every Sunday.
Fast forever many years, and we are now sitting in the front left pew. And we sit there every Sunday.
This past Sunday we sat there in the front left pew.
Right before Mass started, a young couple sat right behind us, together with their young kids. The kids made their way into the pew, trying not to trip and fall all over themselves. I didn’t look back, so I didn’t know how many kids there where, but they were quiet and well behaved. Lou and I raised our kids to behave in public, so seeing and hearing a young family do all the right things really resonated with me. The kids were quiet. At times they spoke to their Mommy in a hushed tone. It was obvious that these parents were raising their little ones to be respectful in church and encouraging them to take part in the Mass.
And I heard them pray. Those little ones were saying the Our Father and my heart burst. It’s not a common thing to see or hear little ones praying in church. I heard the parents praying with them and also singing in tune every chance they could get.
And then it happened. I heard the baby, right behind me. The baby was sitting on Mama’s lap, right behind me. He or she was cooing throughout the Mass. Lou, Sofia and I were loving the noises. The cooing. The talking gibberish.
It was the best sound ever.
To hear a little baby cooing right behind me was the best thing I could ever hear. A happy baby, in his/hers Mama’s arms. Those parents were sharing Jesus with their babies. The kids were happy. What a blessing to hear all of this right behind me.
After Mass I got to see that there were 3 little girls with their parents, along with a little baby boy.
Time flies.
I remember when my kids were that little. It was just yesterday.
As my late father-in-law used to say…” days drag and the years fly.”
Bimpa, you were so very right.
