How beautiful…

Dear Squeaks,

Today is Holy Thursday. My hope as your mother is that you’ll return to church every year on this day, and eventually grow to understand the importance of the celebration of the Last Supper. The Eucharist, the heart of our faith, the reason to do all that we do, the celebration of priesthood (not just the presbyterate, but our priesthood as laity and the obligation we have to serve each other and care for those less fortunate)- these are incredibly important tenets of our faith that I pray every day you will hold dear.

I have always loved this Mass more than any other. Even as a little girl, I loved the solemnity and the beauty and the knowledge that something important was happening.

And two years ago, God used the celebration of His Son’s last supper to give me the greatest gift He ever has- you.

Two years ago I looked across the aisle and I saw you for the first time. And I fell in love. You were so tiny, and dressed in an adorable green outfit, and had one single curl at the back of your tiny neck. And I knew you were special. I saw Daddy make the sign of the cross on you at the beginning of Mass and an overwhelming peace came over me. I knew I was going to marry him and you would be in my life forever and ever.

(I wasn’t exactly sure how that would work, as I didn’t really even know if Daddy remembered me or knew why the creepy lector was staring at him. And it certainly didn’t make the next couple months any easier. Let me just say, little girl, I hope you never have a breakdown in Highland House on Mother’s Day. It’s not fun.)

And it worked out. About five months later you started calling me mommy, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

Tonight I will get you dressed. And I’ll comb your many, many curls. And then Daddy will come home and I’ll get to sit with you next to me at Mass while your little brother flips around inside me.

Because God has never stopped blessing me. And when I’m (hopefully) at this Mass with you and your babies, no matter how many new blessings I will have received and how many years have passed, you will always be that tiny girl with the one curl sitting in Daddy’s arms.

I love you so much, angel.