Unspoken Words

This week has been nuts! We are in the thick of things with spring activities...baseball games, after school activities, appointments, church commitments, you name it. This week we witnessed one of our daughters receive her First Communion, which was by far the highlight of the season. My husband's parents were able to come for a visit to witness this event as well. We have been in a long transition from one church to another and this was the final commitment before moving on. I wanted to be able to serve the blood of Christ to my child and let me tell you, it was SO worth the wait! To be able to serve each of those precious girls their First Communion, but especially my daughter, was a privelege I won't soon forget.

In all the flurry of housecleaning and ironing dresses and baseball games, I somehow overlooked giving a gift to my sweet daughter. I had ordered it months ago – a brand new white covered First Communion bible. I even bought the tabs to make it easier for her to learn the location of the different books. And there it sat. In the shipping container in my closet. Thankfully, I remembered it the next day and I was able to get it to her during the same weekend. I sat on my bed racing to wrap it and racking my brain for those profound words I had wanted to write on the inside cover. Words that would inspire her throughout her life as she opened it up wherever life would lead her.

Nothing. Nada. No wise words in sight!

My poor sleep-deprived brain just quit on me. Sadly, I just filled in the To/From section on the inside cover and left it at that. I wrote a quick blurb to tell her I love her in her card, but that was about it.

I was feeling a little discouraged until a memory suddenly popped into my head. I remember the very same situation playing out before my eyes during my childhood at Christmas. I was in love with The Polar Express at the time. I had read it in school and I was fascinated with every part of the story. My mom found a copy of it for me for Christmas that year and much like myself, she just ran out of time and wise words. She had wrapped it and given it to me without having a chance to write anything inside of it, but after all the flurry of opening gifts, she sat down a moment to complete what she had started. I remember standing nearby as she struggled to find just the right words, with all the pressures of the season and the same bone-deep exhaustion from trying to make all the details of the day just right.

She finally wrote something quickly. She was somewhat frustrated or disappointed. I couldn't tell which, but she had done the best she could in the moment.

It's funny. She worried so much about getting those words just right and feeling like they weren't what she wanted, but it's the memory of what she didn't say that I still carry with me today. I knew then and I especially know now as a mom all that she wanted to say and that is enough. We put so much pressure on ourselves as moms to get everything right and we worry about all the things that slip through the cracks, all the things left unsaid or undone. I don't know exactly what was going through her head at that time, but I will attempt to expound on those words she did write because I find them strangely prophetic as a Catholic now. The words were simple, “May you always hear the bell,” but they implied much more.

“May you never lose the magic of special days.”

“May you always have faith.”

“May you always feel the joy of giving without the expectation of return, especially anonymous giving.”

I may have outgrown Santa Claus as the jolly guy in the big red suit, but my faith in Jesus has introduced me to the true joy of Christmas, the spirit of generosity embodied by one of our saints, Saint Nicholas, who is very much alive in the Presence of God in heaven.

My hope today is that my children will see and remember those things, too. All the things that I didn't do or say just right were still done with deep love and best wishes.