Passing on the Faith,

Last night I attended a First Communion parents' night with Mackenzie. Before we began, I reminded Mackenzie to spit out her gum. Another mother gave her son the eye that said, "Time to be quiet" and the other spoke to her son probably telling him the same thing. Each of us was performing the tedious job of training up young souls.

I realized that these other two mothers and I, along with one of the catechists, had all spent time with the Missionaries of Charity. I was remembering what it felt like to be on my knees with these women on those hardwood floors praying the Rosary with those holy sisters.

On more than one occasion, I had gotten a case of the giggles at an inappropriate time and had to be reminded to keep quiet by the gentle look and finger to the lips from one of the sisters. Many of my hours on my knees in those chapels were spent praying to be right where I was tonight - a wife, a mother, a trainer of souls.

Even though I'm pretty sure that the other mothers had similar prayers to mine, I'm certain that none of us had any idea what our answered prayers would look like. It's impossible to know as young, single girls what ten plus years and four or five children in our own families would be like. None of us knew then the challenges we would face or how different our spiritual journeys would be from those sisters.

Last night as I watched each mom watch her child lead their decade, I thought back to those silent little chapels and those radiant nuns. I wish just once we could all bring our children back there with us. I know it would be crazy, I know it would be hard, but I also know that those sisters would be so proud to see us doing what they trained us to do - the difficult work of passing on the faith.