Funny thing happened this morning. After we had lit our candles at the Chapel of Our Lady and knelt to pray for our Holy Mother’s intercession, we all retired to our usual pew and knelt to pray for a few moments before Mass. My prayers were the usual ones too…amongst other things, I prayed for my son to pay attention during Mass! He has such a hyper personality that he’s always scratching or twitching or driving me or someone else to distraction.
Anyway, I’m praying that this once, I will not be annoyed with my son as he starts looking at the church ceiling trying to spot an angel (he claims to have seen two in the past couple of years) or watching which offertory collecter ‘finishes first’…four men take the offertory collection, there are two that come up the centre aisle, the one collecting on our side usually ‘wins’. Wonderboy thinks it’s great, but I have to repeatedly point out to him that it isn’t necessarily a good thing…maybe our side gives less!
So anyhow, I’m praying that Wonderboy will particpate more. Just before Mass proper begins, I ask him to keep his hands clasped together so that he won’t be tempted to pick something or obscure the view of those behind us as he scratches or tugs his hair or raises his arms boredly as he gives a corresponding yawn and stretch.
Mass is going great, I’m loving it. Until a series of distractions took place that were not the fault of my son. Lot’s of ‘leaving, and toing and froing’ by adults who should have known better. I’m straining to hear and to repeat the words of my parish priest in my heart and then the distractions take over and I’m gone… Half way through the homily, through no fault of the priest, my mind has gone walkies (and yes I do own the book ‘If your mind wanders at Mass!‘)…a second or two later, I’m back on the ball and I’ve caught up with what Fr is saying. Then I smile at the irony.
There I was praying for my child not to distract anyone, and I’m the one who get’s distracted. Perhaps it is I who need to ask for the prayers of my son, so that I will concentrate better?
Just then God smiled at me, one of those, ‘this is just for you’ smiles. I heard my son singing a hymn as he stood next to me. Not just mouthing the words like usual, but actually singing, and my does he have the most angelic little voice when he isn’t trying to sound like a robot or a martian or the Alien. He was so pleased with himself at the end of mass that he said, ‘Look mum, my hands are still fastened together’…and I hadn’t even glued ’em!
On a similar note, I was just reading Loris’ latest post and couldn’t help but feel that it struck a chord with me also, go and read The Beauty of a Smile I’m sure that you will find some words that resonate with you just as they did with me.