This evening, we attended our parish’s Ash Wednesday Mass.
BP was to go with us, but unfortunately, he was in bed and sick, sick, sick.
The Mommy Show was on.
Frack led us straight to the very front row, which actually helps the boys pay a bit more attention.
As I genuflected and crossed myself, I said a
desperate silent prayer that these lively, precious boys would behave, pray and be non-squirmy in that very front row, with the congregation behind us.
Each boy knelt with their hands folded and angelic faces looking to the crucifix.
Frog was most precious in this pose.
After his prayer, he did his version of the sign of the cross.
During communion, Frog was transfixed.
In the front row at our church, you must sit in your seat and not kneel after receiving The Eucharist, as people are receiving the sacrament right in front of you.
So there sat Frog watching all the people walk by and take communion.
And then he pipes up,
“Hey! Hey guy!” (he was referring to the Eucharistic Minister) “I want some!”
I gently whisper to him that he must make the sacrament and will when he is 8.
“Ok. I 8 now. Gimme some.”
The boys were perfect. And pious. And especially precious.
What a sight it is to see your child looking to God in the most reverent way with his hands folded.
I may have teared up a little.