Dust

On Ash Wednesday T., LL and I went to the 6pm Mass to participate in Mass, receive our ashes and begin Lent.

It was dangerously close to LL's bedtime, but we had wanted to "begin" Lent as a family so we waited until T. got off of work to attend. I had a hard time paying attention to the service, I was really more focused on trying to keep LL happy and quiet; making sure he didn't rip pages out of the missalette or throw Cheerios at the lady behind us so that OTHER people could focus on the beginning of Lent without getting clocked on the side of the head by a sippy cup thrown at them from across the aisle. For some reason, I was so worried about keeping LL happy and relatively quiet that I didn't really think about the content of the mass. I didn't really think about the priest putting ashes on my baby's forehead. I guess I sort of thought that since he didn't participate in Mass, he also wouldn't participate in the ashes. He'd go up with us in one or the other of our arms, be blessed as usual (second to communion, my favorite part of the mass!), we'd get ashes and go home.

It struck me when after I received ashes, I walked to where my husband was at the next presider, holding our baby, and watched the priest make the sign of the cross on my husband, and then turned to my son in his arms and made a large charcoal smudgy cross on my little boy's forehead.

Thou art dust and to dust thou shalt return

I was stunned at the emotions that came over me when I witnessed this simple act. It is not something that you want to think about for your baby. Your baby is new life! Excitement! Just barely learning how to walk and babble. Clapping their hands over a new discovery and singing! Your baby is what you've been thinking about and planning for and looking forward to (much like Advent) for so long and far be it for some priest to go and make me start thinking about the death of this beautiful joy! To me, it was too early. Not dust. Not now.

With a gulp we returned to our seats and I couldn't keep my eyes off of Lloyd's forehead.

It made me sort of realize and remember with a start that God entrusted this beautiful child to ME. It is MY responsibility (along with my husband) to raise him up. To not only make sure he eats his vegetables and learns how to ride a bike and says his pleases and thank yous and doesn't interrupt when an adult is speaking, but that it is MY responsibility to introduce him to God. I'm the go-between. I'm the one making introductions from one friend to another. I'm the one that will teach him how to love, and that God IS love. The most important lesson of all.

Holly Pierlot reminds us that "Parenting is a call to form persons. We're called to bring God to our children's spirits, truth to their minds, health to their bodies, skill to their hands, beauty and creativity to their hearts and, in all this, virtue to their wills and sanctity to their souls."

Pope Pius XI stated that "Education consists essentially in preparing man for what he must be, and for what he must do here below, in order to attain the sublime end for which he was created."

Because of God's grace, I am Lloyd's mama, and his first and most important teacher. Even though he is still very small, I see him learning everyday. It makes you think about your actions. What am I doing today that is teaching my son? What life lessons and values is he learning through both conscious planning from me as well as his observation of me and how I act and react to him and others, both loved ones and strangers? What can I do to teach him love everyday?