Joy Jar and Trouble Tree

During a lovely visit to the home of my sister-in-law, Sarah, last weekend, I was struck yet again by what the words "domestic church" really mean.

She shared with me an idea she had for praying each night with her very visual 6 year old daughter. One night when they came to prayer, Sarah brought a pencil, a long sheet of paper, a jar, lots of little sheets of paper and a wooden cross. She introduced them to her daughter as something they were going to do each night.

"This is our Joy Jar and our Trouble Tree. As we close our day each night, let's write down all of the things we are thankful for today. What was great that happened?"

They brainstormed for a while, and wrote down some lovely events of the day, and people they love, and other joys that came to mind. Then Sarah rolled up the paper and set it slightly aside.

"Now, we can think of things for our Trouble Tree. Were there hard things today? Was there anything sad or painful?" Then they talked about those things, writing each one on the small slips of paper Sarah had brought.

Bringing forward the Cross, Sarah asked, "Do you know what this is? Yes, a Cross. You know, sometimes when people talk about the Cross, they talk about it as a tree. I wonder why?" Her daughter said, "Because it is made of wood?" "Do you know what happened on this Tree?" Her daughter did, indeed: "Jesus died, but He rose again!"

"He rose again. This is our Trouble Tree. We are going to take all of these troubles we've written down and take them to the Trouble Tree. Jesus then takes our troubles and look what happens..." (Then she ripped up all of the troubles). "...He takes them from us and they are gone."

Her daughter thought about this. "But what if the same ones come back tomorrow?"

"Yes," Sarah nodded. "I wonder where we could take our troubles if they come back?"

"To the Trouble Tree!"

"But our joys, we will roll up and place here in our Joy Jar. These are gifts we are given from God that never go away. They keep growing and growing and growing."

Then two finished their prayers and kissed goodnight. It is now becoming a treasured tradition in their home. I was so struck by the beauty of how simply and easily a parent can lay a foundation of prayer and trust for their children that I just had to share it with you. I will definitely put this story in my Joy Jar when I go to prayer tonight.

HeART of the Child

Each year, the National Association of Catechesis of the Good Shepherd publishes a journal with stories from the atrium, written by catechists around the USA and around the world, along with pictures that have been drawn by the children. It can be quite amazing to see the fruit of the children's deep reflection on the themes that are presented to them in CGS. This collection of incredible and theologically profound children's art has grown to the extent that the National Association now has a traveling art exhibit to share this treasure with others called "HeART of the Child."

The child, especially the youngest child, doesn't always tell us what he or she is thinking with their words. Sometimes we see how deeply a child is touched based on his or her artwork. In the hallway going to the parish hall, as well as just inside the door in the lower level, we've set up a couple of bulletin boards in order to share the artwork that has come out of our own parish. Some of the items we share are prayers or "big works" made by the older child, and some are simple drawings that were made by a child with no particular artistic talent, but a great demonstration of something wonderful that is going on in his or her soul.

It takes a bit of patience and humility to look at the drawing of a child, especially one that is done by a very young child, but you may find yourself rewarded and challenged. After all, "the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these." I hope you will check it out!

Peace Be With You

Mass with our 6 year old daughter can sometimes be a bit of a trial. There are the predictable bathroom requests, seating arrangement arguments about which parent to sit by (and which sibling NOT to sit by), and the pleadings by Mom and Dad to pay attention...

But there is also something magical about attending Mass with a small child. Sometime toward the end of the Eucharistic prayer, our Lucy comes into her own. From the Great Amen, to the Our Father, to the A-word moment (It's Lent, so I won't say it) when she gets to shake everyone's hand, Lucy transforms before my eyes. If she was fidgety or distracted before, it is all gone. As she prepares to walk up to receive her blessing from Father during Communion, I've noticed that she looks as though she is walking on clouds.

Almost without fail, when we return to our pew, she hugs me tightly and tells me how much she loves me. Or she joyfully whispers that that it is only TWO MORE YEARS until her first communion. She will then shimmy to the end of our pew for her weekly ritual of shaking hands with Bobby, who always comes in line last and exchanges a sign of peace with her just before he receives Jesus in the Eucharist. Her peaceful smile lasts for a long time after the candles are extinguished and most people have gone home.

I was wondering about Lucy's profound transformation each week around the time that the Communion Rite begins following the Great Amen. I had hoped and expected that my little ones would fall most deeply in love with the Eucharistic prayer and gestures: the moment when heaven touches earth. But it seems that Ms. Lucy resonates most with the deep communion that flows from that moment.

From my time working with children in my own family and at our parish, I can tell you that the children have more to teach us about the Mass than we have to teach them. I have to admit that her peace and joy is quite infectious. She would give her peace and joy to anyone and only gain more. If you happen to sit close enough to us on the east side of the Church, just reach out your hand and see what I mean. She really means it when she says, "Peace be with you!"

Accumulating Love

"It feels like my love has changed."

I told a priest friend and guide this recently, prepared to wax philosphic about how so many of my relationships have grown and matured since I was younger, needier, and, well, sinfull-er. He stopped me in my tracks.

"Where does love come from?" he ventured.

"From God."

"Does God change?"

"Well, no," I conceded, qualifying my answer. "But I don't mean that my love has changed for the worse. I mean it has changed for the better. I may not have all the heart flutters I did early in these relationships of love, but now I feel like I'm more "grown up" and can fulfill the responsibilities of love without so much, well, candy."

"But if God doesn't change, and he IS Love, then maybe you aren't thinking of your life and the love in your life as you should."

He proceeded, irregardless of my confused face, to question me about when I first fell in love with my husband... a question I really could not answer with certainty... Sure, I had a "crush" on him since 8th or maybe 11th grade, but true love? I wasn't sure.

"But if love is when God becomes part of the picture between you and your spouse, you should know the moment!" he exclaimed. "That special love between you that started to develop and grow has never changed. That is God... and it has been there since the beginning. You don't grow out of God. That love is not something that is here and gone in the past. It is always with you... all of it. Don't let yourself forget that."

Over the next day or two, I began to think back on all the moments of love between my husband and I. From wistful looks in 8th grade science class, to "scooping the loop" that one time during senior year, to the merry-go-round at the park that summer before college, to the moment he first told me that he loved me, and into our married life. The tears on our wedding day, to the day he gave our newborn daughter a tour of our home, to the origami flowers he folded one Valentine's Day, to how gently he cared for me when I had surgery, to the countless words of encouragement and support he offers.

It was overwhelming to think of the love that exists between us as a cumulative thing, rather than simply today's experience. The moment when I fell in love and the thrill of being someone's wife, that is all still with me, and I should take care not to forget that.

Since that day, I've been thinking of many of the relationships in my life, especially my relationship with God. When did I first "fall in love" with God? When did I begin to live my life for Him? How has He rescued me from meaninglessness? How has He strengthened me with the ability to love others more deeply? I must always remind myself of that incredible joy of discovering who I was in God, lest one day, Christ warn my heart and say, "You have lost the love you had at first..." Revelation 2:4.

Love is not about how I feel right now, it is the experience of God Himself! No matter how little or great the love I feel for the other right now, every act of love that I offer and receive is always growing and becoming more. Finally accumulating this great treasure of love, I can not only enjoy it forever in heaven, but also right here and now. We know that at the Parousia, "God will be all in all," (1 Cor 15:28) but we can begin to experience that in our own lives and loves today!