Always With Me
Piety
Woman in the Crowd:
"Blessed is the womb that carried you and the breasts at which you
nursed."
Jesus: "Rather, blessed
are those who hear the word of God and observe it." (Lk 11:27-28)
May we be the blessed who hear
the gospel of love and mercy and observe it!
Study
Jesus does not diminish the honor bestowed on
the Blessed Mother as much as give us all an opportunity to share in the
blessing.
Action
Two
weeks ago, when Beth’s mother died, Fr. Paul sent a short reading which brings
amazing comfort at a time like this. It
is this passage from the book “No Death, No Fear” by Thích Nhất Hạnh:
“The day my
mother died I wrote in my journal, "A serious misfortune of my life has
arrived." I suffered for more than one year after the passing away of my
mother. But one night, in the highlands of Vietnam, I was sleeping in the hut
in my hermitage. I dreamed of my mother. I saw myself sitting with her, and we
were having a wonderful talk. She looked young and beautiful, her hair flowing
down. It was so pleasant to sit there and talk to her as if she had never died.
When I woke up it was about two in the morning, and I felt very strongly that I
had never lost my mother. The impression that my mother was still with me was
very clear. I understood then that the idea of having lost my mother was just
an idea. It was obvious in that moment that my mother is always alive in me.
I opened the door and went outside. The entire hillside was bathed in moonlight. It was a hill covered with tea plants, and my hut was set behind the temple halfway up. Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tender, very sweet... wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine but a living continuation of my mother and my father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. Those feet that I saw as "my" feet were actually "our" feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil.
From that moment on, the idea that I had lost my mother no longer existed. All I had to do was look at the palm of my hand, feel the breeze on my face or the earth under my feet to remember that my mother is always with me, available at any time.”
I opened the door and went outside. The entire hillside was bathed in moonlight. It was a hill covered with tea plants, and my hut was set behind the temple halfway up. Walking slowly in the moonlight through the rows of tea plants, I noticed my mother was still with me. She was the moonlight caressing me as she had done so often, very tender, very sweet... wonderful! Each time my feet touched the earth I knew my mother was there with me. I knew this body was not mine but a living continuation of my mother and my father and my grandparents and great-grandparents. Of all my ancestors. Those feet that I saw as "my" feet were actually "our" feet. Together my mother and I were leaving footprints in the damp soil.
From that moment on, the idea that I had lost my mother no longer existed. All I had to do was look at the palm of my hand, feel the breeze on my face or the earth under my feet to remember that my mother is always with me, available at any time.”
We
should all be so lucky to have the love of a mother. Fewer still are those lucky enough to share in the blessing of the love of two mothers. Or THREE. Or FOUR!
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| Ruth DeCristofaro 1932-2012 |
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| Katharine R. Costea 1930-2019 Mother-in-Law |
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| Micky Lawler, Godmother Ft. Lauderdale, FL |
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| Beth DeCristofaro Fairfax, VA |
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