Acade(me)

The dissertation was only the beginning.

People & Places
T: Amazing Husband
ST: Three-year-old Wonder
Prof. G: Advisor I
Prof. C: Advisor II
Julie: Stylish Sister
Rob: Awesome Brother
Belle: Our Cat
Bill: Grumbling BIL
Rita: Uncomplicated SIL
SMU: Smallish Midwestern University
Doctoral University: where I got my Ph.D.
Technical
Blogwise - blog directory
Drop Me A Line
academeblog AT gmail.com
Quote of the Day
Sunday, June 04, 2006
Sunday School
Every fourth Sunday, the priest at our church announces to the congregation that there will be a Children's Liturgy just before the readings. On those Sundays, the children of the parish file out of the church and into the connected parish hall, where their teachers read to them and explain the Gospel in a child-friendly way. Every time this has happened in the past, ST has begged me to let him go. I always hesitated, however, since most of the children who paraded out of Mass were at least four or five. ST is only three. Today, however, when ST heard Father W. announce the Children's Liturgy his face brightened and he asked, "Please, please, please, please, please can I go?" I consented, and he literally ran down the aisle to be with the other kids.

It was strange being in Mass without him. He's been my partner at Mass for three years now, and I'm not used to being able to concentrate fully on what's happening at the altar or what is being read for me. Today I couldn't concentrate, either, though, because my mind kept wandering to what ST was doing.

Just before Communion, the children returned. ST bounded toward me, a picture of the disciples in his little hands. He rushed to me and kissed my face, saying, "Oh, Mom! That was so fun!" He could barely keep himself quiet as Father W. prepared the bread and wine.

After Mass, as we were walking to our car, I asked ST what he did during the Children's Liturgy. "Oh, well, some lady read to us," he said. I asked him if he remembered what she read. "There was fire. Lots of fire. Firey tongues. And all of these men had firey tongues on their heads," he explained.

It was Pentecost Sunday, and the Gospel had been about the Holy Spirit descending upon the disciples, leaving them with tongues of flames on their heads and allowing them to speak in any language.

"Why do you think they had firey tongues on their heads?" I asked ST.

"Because Jesus died," he responded.

"But what do you think the firey tongues meant?" I persisted.

ST paused for a moment, and then looked up at me with his clear blue eyes, squinting in the sunlight. "Well, I think it means that Jesus doesn't want us to play with fire."

A valid interpretation, I suppose.
Posted with care by Prof. Me @ 6/04/2006 01:26:00 PM  
3 Words of Wisdom:
  • At 6:12 PM, Blogger Dr. Mon said…

    He is just too much!

     
  • At 9:52 PM, Anonymous Peri said…

    I love that boy!

    I always picture the whole group of disciples standing around like human birthday candles. It also always prompts me to sing, "Ring of Fire..." I am sooooo sacriligious!

     
  • At 11:58 PM, Blogger Maria said…

    *big grin here*

    I remember as a child at mass wondering what "tongues" of fire actually were. It was such a strange concept to me then (and now, actually).

    Tomorrow I'm totally calling my mom and telling her this anecdote.

     
Post a Comment
<< Home
 
Post History
Archives
Favorite Web Destinations
Template by

Free Blogger Templates

BLOGGER