Sunday Prayers

Trying to keep three small children quiet while dining at a restaurant (see yesterday's post!) is quite easy when compared to the difficulty of maintaining silence during an hour-long church service with our little girls. Dan and I have, at times, resorted to attending separate Masses so that we can have some peaceful time to pray without children. However, we prefer to pray together as a family, so we usually all make the journey to church collectively.

We have enjoyed a relatively calm period for about a year now. Amy and Beth are usually quite happy to sit with their religious coloring books, creating masterpiece after masterpiece. Erin is a relatively passive baby who enjoys a full hour of cuddling in a grown-up's arms. Whenever a child nearby starts screaming or crying, I smile knowingly at the frazzled mother. Then Dan and I glance at each other, mentally patting each other on the back for the excellent behaviour of our children, conveniently forgetting the many Sundays when Amy and Beth were babies and misbehaved throughout the morning.

However, Erin has slowly but surely been rebelling against this hour long period of silence. There's so much to do and see in Church, and it's difficult to explore when Mommy is holding you captive in her arms. Today, Erin sat for about 5 minutes, and then started to struggle to be put down. She arched her back, kicked her legs, and then started to scream. I tried shifting positions. I attempted to give her a bottle. I stood up and bounced her up and down. Nothing worked, and the screams got louder.

So I headed for the back of the church, where I began pacing in an attempt to calm her down. She continued to fuss and yell, and I started to consider whether leaving church altogether would be the best option.

Then, suddenly and inexplicably, she stopped crying. Her face broke out in a big smile, and her little hand started frantically flapping up and down. She was waving at someone, and it was clearly someone that was making her very happy.

I turned around to see who this wonderful stranger might be. There, behind me, was a life-size statue of Mary, the Mother of Jesus. Her hand was outstretched in what, to a baby anyway, appeared to be a friendly wave. Erin continued her greeting for a few more minutes before finally putting her head down on my shoulder and settling in for the rest of the Mass.

I reflected on this as we paced the back of the church for the next few minutes. I realized that this is why Dan and I battle with the crying, the occasional tantrums, and the stress of bringing small children to church. So that each of us can say "hello" to God in our own little ways. I'm fairly sure that even Erin's little greeting was recognized and appreciated this morning.