Due Date: December 25th

"You know what the great thing about babies is?

They are like little bundles of hope. Like the future in a basket."

- Lish McBride

Baby Ella
Born: 12/19/2013
2:03 AM 6.2lbs 19.4 inches

     In the past year I have witnessed many families welcome a new baby into the family. My next door neighbor welcomed a little cherub into the family the week of Thanksgiving. My god-daughter celebrated her first year of baby life. Many others celebrated new births in their family, including my friend, Heather. She awaited the birth of her little girl with so much energy, none like I had ever seen. Every day I could look forward to opening Facebook to see a post from a very excited Mama. I felt so blessed to watch her journey of pregnancy bloom into something so beautiful: a lovely baby girl. Ella came a day earlier than expected and I laughed knowing that she's going to go up to be just like her Mama; excited about life and anxious to do anything God asks of her.

     While I clicked through the pictures of baby Ella on facebook, I remembered back to Thanksgiving 2012. The very next day my family got a phone call. Baby Emily was born. A few days later, another phone call, this time asking me to be the godmama of the little cherub. How could I say no? I remembered the excitement surrounding the birth of this baby, number seven in a long line of brothers and sisters. I remembered back even further to when my little sister, Lizzie, was born. I was sitting in the sixth grade classroom with Mrs. Rocco when the secretary got on the loudspeaker to announce that my little sister had been born. I couldn't wait to go see her. It seems that in my life, there is a running theme. Whenever there is a new baby born, immediately the world is notified. Phone calls are made, pictures are taken, text messages are sent, facebook statuses are updated, tweets are tweeted, everyone knows. 

     The birth of Heather's little one reminded me of all the joy surrounding a baby. She was always uploading pictures of her ultrasounds, of her belly and of her favorite little girl quotes. It was easy to catch her energy surrounding her baby that even I found myself counting down the days til Ella's due date. Ella was supposed to be born on a Friday very early, but instead, on the day before her due date, I woke up to pictures of the little one. I actually cried out of excitement that the cherub had finally graced us with her presence. It made me so happy to see the pictures of the angel, mama and daddy. I was beaming with happiness when suddenly it hit me...Jesus. 

     Around this time 2000 some years ago, Mary was anxiously awaiting her little one...while riding a donkey...while traveling to Bethlehem...while not being able to find any room at the inn...while hunkering down in a cave with some farm animals... I find it that often we focus on the poverty and humility of Mary, Joseph and Jesus that we tend to miss the happiness of the birth of the baby. Jesus was born into poverty and by humble means, but not so much on her joy. Father Mooney, at the Spanish Mass on Sunday, the last Sunday of Advent, mentioned this in his homily. He spoke about the joy that surrounds the birth of a baby. 

     We remember what Mary said when the angel came to visit her: "My Soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit REJOICES in God, my Savior." SHE REJOICED! SHE WAS ECSTATIC! Then she went and visited her cousin, Elizabeth. It was then that John the Baptist, the babe within Elizabeth's womb, LEAPT FOR JOY! Like, hey girl, baby's a comin', better get excited. The joy, the happiness, the expectancy of the child of God. I often imagine what Mary was going through in those hours before the birth: pain, desire for the test to be over, and yet, JOY. Tired, exhausted, yet rejoicing at the birth of the babe. 

      While there was no phones with which to call Mary or Joseph's family with the news, no emails to be sent, no tweets tweeted, no facebook statuses updated or even pictures taken, the world still knew of Jesus' birth. The star shone bright in the sky and the shepherds came to adore Him. There was celebration; quiet, humble, beautiful celebration. Jesus was still celebrated, not in the same way as Baby Ella, but with much joy from his parents. 

     Last night, at midnight Mass, I thought once again of Heather, Ryan and Ella. I imagined the beautiful little babe sound asleep and then I looked at the manger where Jesus was laid. I felt a bit of grief for the child who came to save us. This year, His birthday seemingly hasn't been celebrated with great joy. This beautiful birth wasn't marked by selfies with the birthday boy, snap videos of singing happy birthday, shout-out tweets or statuses. The world has seemingly forgot the joy this child brought 2000 some years ago. However, I thought about how many little churches were marking the birth of the child by celebrating Mass. We were celebrating it last night, the same way Mary and Joseph did. He was brought into the world with a quiet, excited joy and that's how he was celebrated last night. 

     While the celebration was small at Midnight Mass, I couldn't help but laugh at the one single baby in the back of church who shouted and clapped his hands throughout the Mass. This kid was celebrating Jesus the same way Heather, Ryan and their families celebrated Ella: WITH GREAT JUBILATION. I smiled and felt in my heart, a kick of joy. Oh hey Jesus, there You are...I felt Jesus in my heart, crying, shouting, like a cutesy little baby. I was reminded that, while as a Parish community, we quietly commemorated the birth of Jesus in the humble style of Mary and Joseph, it was my turn to celebrate Jesus like Heather and Ryan. Perhaps, back then, when Jesus was born, there was no means to proudly celebrate the child (and in truth, they couldn't because of King Herod...). But now, there is such means and I plan on celebrating Jesus loud and proud in the style of Heather, Ryan and Ella: loud, proud and with GUSTO!

      Congrats on your new little one, Heather and Ryan. Know that baby Ella has reminded me once again how I need to celebrate Jesus, the little one. Thank you for letting me witness the beauty of your journey of giving life. Truly, that was my Christmas miracle. 

Caroling Around the Crib

"Servants of the Lord, 

Bless the Lord."

- Daniel 3:85

      It was the night before the last day of student teaching and all throughout the Rotunda could be heard the sounds of songs from The Sound of Music. I was seated next to a beautiful woman of God awaiting the arrival of my three friends and Baby Jesus. Throughout the Rotunda came more friends chattering about in the spirit of Advent and hustling and bustling about the end (of the semester) being near. Wait. What?! Of course, one would be confused if he or she wasn't standing there at that exact moment. So let me give you the background...

      A few weeks before the end of the semester, an email went out to the Senior class asking for submissions of essays of those wishing to carry Baby Jesus on Carol Night. I remembered back to my Freshmen year, while working with Sister Cathy, going into the VP's office to get the new baby Jesus. What?! My exact reaction. I looked at the dear woman and asked how there could be a new baby Jesus and she just laughed. A few minutes later we were unwrapping the box in which was the new baby Jesus statue needed for Carol Night. Having never been to a Carol Night before, I was still confused. But, later that week I found out. I remember looking at the statue of the infant and falling in love the same way a mother first falls in love with her new child. I remember only wanting to hold that little infant statue for ever and ever. A few days later, I witnessed my first Carol Night and as I saw the Seniors carry in the baby, I knew I wanted to do that one day. So, a few weeks before the end of the semester, I handed in my essay. 

       In my essay, I spoke about Mary's yes. I spoke about the symbolism of carrying Jesus during Carol Night meant for me: embodying Mary's yes. I imagined the overwhelming feeling of love in my heart. And as God would have it, I was one of the four who carried the baby in through the rotunda. The funniest part of it was that I was, by far, the shortest carrying the baby. Hey, even the small can do their part. 

       As we were kneeling there, waiting for Steph to take the Child and put Him in the manger, I thought, how perfect. God works in funny ways, you see, because I had written my essay with the intention of desiring to put Jesus in the manger. However, God knew that I needed to CARRY the baby like Mary did. Mary didn't just simply lay the babe in the manger, but rather she carried him for nine months during her pregnancy. Then, she carried him throughout his childhood. Then, she carried him during his first miracle and all his miracles. She carried him as he walked the way to the cross. And finally, when He died she carried him off the cross and to the tomb. Suddenly, all of that hit me as I was kneeling at the foot of the manger. I had Jesus on my shoulders (with the help of three of my friends) and I was carrying him, not exactly like Mary, but in the spirit of how she carried him. 

       I reflected on that through the night. As I stood there around the Christmas tree with my fellow seniors, I thought of not only the nostalgia of this being my last Carol night as an undergraduate, but also of the encapturing beauty of Christmas. I remembered what God had always asked me to be: a servant to the Lord. That night, I realized that Mary, too, had been asked to serve God as a true servant. She carried the King...I got to carry the king. I was overwhelmed with the notion, with this beauty revelation. So often I reflect on how I serve Christ by serving others, but now I was reflecting on how I got to literally serve Him. It reminded me to continue to serve Christ through others. It reminded me that I was meant to be a servant of the Lord.

      This past weekend, I was on retreat and at the end of the retreat, we were given one of the courts of the Lord. I truly believe that God's timing is so perfect as I was given "the Crib," the place where Jesus rests. This was the second part of my Advent gift from God. First it was the realization that I am called the be servant. This weekend He showed me that I am meant to also carry Jesus forever, making the heart the crib. Of course, I believe this will continue on because we know that from the wood of the crib comes the wood of the cross. There is much joy in watching a child asleep in the crib and there is much suffering in watching a man die upon the cross. If I truly accept this call to be servant of the Lord, there will be great joy, such as the joy of Jesus resting in the crib of my heart, but there will always be suffering. I am called to be a servant of the Lord, just as Mary was. I am called to carry the Lord, serve Him and let Him reside, take rest and refuge in my heart. I must prepare my heart to be a resting place for the Lord. Jesus, I say "Yes," like Mary said, "Yes." I give myself to you, sweetheart. Please, take a rest in my heart. 

A Few of My Favorite Things: Nuns and Babies Part Two

"Holding a baby is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

How all they do is wave their arms and reach for your 

face and watch your every move. The way their little fingers

wrap all around your single one and their tiny toes

squirm all about. And when they sleep, surely it's an angel

in your arms. It's as beautiful holding the new life as it is 

holding the hand of an elderly person.

The peace is unexplainable."

- "Becca-ism"

    I cannot help but continue to reiterate how blessed my year has been. I am continuously simply in awe of His mighty goodness. I am so grateful for all God has given me. Once before, not too long ago, I did a blog post on nuns and babies. Well, friends, here's a part two. God has been so generous to me that I simply good not pass up this chance to once again proclaim my love for nuns and babies.

    Last night, slightly spur of the moment, my Dad, little sister and I decided to visit my aunt, uncle and seven cousins. Yes, that's right, I said seven cousins. You see, in our family, having lots of kids is pretty common. My Uncle Charlie and Aunt Maryanne have taken the cake on having the most kids. Not only that, but they also have the youngest kids, the youngest of whom is my most precious God-daughter. Last week, Emily turned one. That's a big deal for a little princess, you know. So part of our reason to go over was to give her her present. When we got there, it was close to seven. When we left, it was close to nine. Those two hours went by faster than you can believe.

    I'm known to be the biggest little kid in my family. I'm always the older cousin running around with the babies. I'm usually outside playing football with the younger boys or playing teacher or dress up with the girls. I'm not the older cousin who stands around contemplating the universe over a wine cooler. Nope, I'm playing with the kids. Last night was no different. I walked into the living room and as my dad tackled his brother, I wrestled the two boys into a big hug. My cousins, Albert and Charles, were dressed in super hero pajamas and so, being the teacher that I am, I asked them all about the superheros. Then I asked if I could be one. So, guess who I got to be?! Wonderwoman. I didn't know this, but apparently she has a lasso that forces the person in the lasso to tell the truth. So, I started a little game with the boys. If I caught them in my arms, my "lasso," they had to tell me one truth. Well our truths turned into riddles which the other made up. At 8 o'clock, the clock chimed and my aunt told the boys they had to go to bed. They almost cried because they didn't want to. Heck, I even cried. So, I asked if I could take the boys up to bed. 

       Now, I forgot to mention that every time one of the boys got an answer right to the question while in the lasso, they got a turkey five. They loved this and it had them deep belly laughing. It had me hysterically laughing, too. When we got to the top of the stairs, the boys were supposed to go to the bathroom and then go brush their teeth. Well, as little boys tend to do, they did NOT want any parts of this at all. So, I told them they if they didn't do their bedtime routine, they wouldn't get a Turkey Five. Didn't that do the trick?! Of course, I think the boys' favorite part was riding me up the stairs. Long ago, I had mastered the method of being able to carry at least three kids on me at one time. With only two of them, it was easy. Albert was on my back and Charles clung to me like a baby koala bear on the front. When they finished in the bathroom, they got to ride dinosaur Becca to their bedroom. Then I stood up, rolled down the blankets, and catapulted them into their beds. Of course, I had to tickle them until they laid down and then I tucked them in. My aunt came in for a good night kiss and then I demanded one, too. Of course, my good night kiss ended in a little blessing on their foreheads. 

       While I didn't get to hold my goddaughter much last night since she herself was getting ready for bed, I did get to play with her little brothers. Children, I very firmly believe, are closer to the angels than I'll ever be during my time here on Earth. In fact, they are angels themselves. I never tire of hanging out with my little cousins and I really wish they could all stay so little forever. My cousins give me the chance to be the kid I have inside. They give me a chance to kiss and hug angels. They give me a chance to play with the divine. I went home last night and couldn't have been happier. One might think that spending all this time with kids would make me want to have kids of my own and yes, this is true. But more often then not, spending time with all these kids make me want only be a that crazy Sister aunt lady who gets to play with all the kids because she doesn't have any of her own. This is especially so when my cousins answer the riddle: What do you call a traveling nun? By saying, "You, Becca?" Ha, yes, kids, I am an eventual traveling nun.

        When talking about my adventures with the kiddos last night, I mentioned that playing with them is as close to the divine as I can get aside from holding the hands of the elderly. This morning, I was blessed enough not only to go to Mass at the SBS Motherhouse, where my good friend, Katie D, once lived, but also to visit my other good friend, Sister Ruth Catherine. I had been told that Sister's memory is going and I was nervous that she wouldn't recognize me but when I went up to her room after Mass, she was so excited to see "her Becky." She had me sit down on her bed and then we chatted. I found triumph in only having to retell one story twice; all the others we only had to do once. Today was a good day for her. Toward the end of our visit, after asking me about how much I love teaching, she asked: "You know, Becky, I know you'll make a great teacher. Have you ever thought of religious life?" Sister Ruth asks me this question during every visit, I think because she just wants the thrill of hearing me say yes. So today, I told her: "All the time, Sister. In fact, never have I felt this much peace in my life until finally admitting to myself that I know where and to whom I belong." She grasped me hand, kissed my forehead and spoke with such joy in her voice. I smiled, almost cried, and thanked God for yet another triumph. She later linked my arm as we walked out of her room and I kissed her cheek goodbye with the reminder that I am always praying for her. She's simply beautiful.

       Yes truly, a few of my favorite things are nuns and babies. This Thanksgiving break, I got both my nun fix and my baby fix. I was so happy. I am so grateful. Both of these events gave me enough joy and stamina to get through these next two weeks of school before Christmas break. There is much to look forward to in these last two weeks and I know there will be so much for which I am grateful. Thank you, God, for baby cousins and nuns! And just a shout out to my favorite missed connection nun who called me while I was in the middle of this blog post: How big WAS that Rudolph blow up in the yard? Love you, AF!