The Most Beautiful Thing

"I was blessed to see the most beautiful thing, 

and it wasn't the Rockies."

- Deacon T

      On the rare occasion that we attend a Vigil Mass, I always find it a bit hard to focus. I am so accustomed to starting my Sundays or Feast Days off with Mass and quiet that I find it hard to be centered after a long day of noise and activity. Despite this, New Year's Eve is one of those times we attend the vigil Mass. We were among the few and far between; I could count the amount of young people on my two hands. There were barely any families. I was finding it even harder to focus because of this small gathering of church. But God found my attention anyway. 

     Our deacon opened his homily be inviting the parishioners to reflect on the good things that happened to us in 2019. Immediately, Joe and I looked at our baby - she was, by far, the best part of 2019 for us. He then went on to describe the beautiful sights he was blessed to see on his family vacation over the summer - his favorite family trip. As he went on, however, he said, "As beautiful as these sights were, they were not the most beautiful thing." He then described the wonder and awe that encompassed him at the birth of his son. 

     He described how amazing it was to witness this but also how incredible it was to see others love on his son as they visited, learned of his birth, and more. I had tears rolling down my cheeks as I squeezed our little girl a bit tighter on my lap. Yes. This was exactly what I had experienced  and it was exactly what was flooding through my mind. Every little detail of the day Hannah was born until the moment she was placed in my arms was vividly playing. I remember every second of the day and evening. I was so happy to have that night with our new little family; just the three of us. It was perfect.

     So why did Deacon mentioned this most beautiful event? Because New Year's Eve is the Vigil of the Solemnity of Mary. He likened the experience he had to what might have been for the Holy Family. If he, and I, and others like us, are in such wonder and awe of our own babies at their births, how much more wonder and awe must have filled Mary and Joseph's hearts at the sight of THE HOLY CHILD. Did they cry at the sight of this baby child like so many have? Did they hold the Christ Child to their chests and kiss his little baby head? Did they watch this baby sleep next to them in the manger? Did Mary sleep at all during those first 24 hours? Did she worry about how she would feed him or cloth him or change him? Had Joseph ever changed or held a baby before? It was if suddenly, I was taken back to the night Christ was born via the birth of my own child.
    Imagining and reflecting on what might it have been like for the Holy Family as they welcomed the birth of their Christ Child has been a beautiful journey of my faith. It leads me not just down the wonder and awe of the birth of Christ but also His infancy. Each morning my baby girl stares, smiles and now talks at the crucifixes that are hung above her bassinet. I wholeheartedly believe that she is praying, that she KNOWS Jesus. I wonder if her image of God is that of another baby friend or if her image of God is of a friendly, bearded man who kisses her head all the time, like her daddy. Who does she see when she talks to Jesus? When I bring her to Mass with me daily, I sometimes imagine myself taking her to a baby play date...am I crazy? is it absurd? perhaps. But this is the reflection I have been led on.
   
     In light of the Golden Globes and the comments made about women achieving dreams, I can only say that this journey of Motherhood has led me down a path of utmost respect for the Mothers in the world but even more so for the Blessed Mother. She was not planning to have a baby when she did but by her yes to Divine Motherhood, her dreams and ours, for that matter, have grown beyond understanding. Motherhood has been nothing short of a blessing for me; my dreams have exploded into many, many more, knowing that I am better because of my daughter and all my future children. Motherhood is my best dream and as a result of this, my spiritual journey continues to be enlightened. Every day I am surprised at the goodness of my daughter and I am blown away by the blessings I reap through her. Mary must have felt this way, too. For if this is how I am feeling daily, complete wonder and awe of the ways my child leads me to God, Mary must have felt this even more so; her child was LITERALLY GOD.

     Thank you, God, for my daughter. Thank you for speaking to my heart daily through her. I am blessed with the most beautiful thing.

Blessed Among Women

"You were chosen by the Father, 

you were chosen for the Son.

Blessed are you among women, 

blest, in turn, all women, too."

     "It's no wonder your heart is breaking; it's the first time in 12 months that she isn't attached to you," one of my dearest colleagues said to me as she hugged me tightly on my second day back to school. 

      On the first day back to school, I cried putting her in her crib fast asleep, all the way to school, in the parking lot in my car, in the parking lot when someone welcomed me back to school, with the students who gave me so many welcoming hugs back, when any one person asked me how I was, and on the way home. On the second day back to school, I cried putting her in her crib fast asleep, part of the way to school, for a few minutes in the parking lot, not so much with people who asked me how I was and not in front of the students. On the third day back to school, I cried while pumping in the convent because I wished I was feeding my baby not the pump, in the chapel during Communion Service and during lunch when baby girl came for lunch. On the fourth day back, I cried when I left her wide awake in her crib whispering to her, telling her to go back to sleep. On the fifth day...it was the weekend and I didn't cry. 

     The church people asked me how my first week back to school was. Before I could tell them how weepy it was, I was weeping with them. My heart felt like it broke every morning, kept breaking all day long, and was only put back together when my baby was back in my arms at the end of the school day. It was an emotional pain like I had never experienced and I was battling with the why and how of it all. That's when my dear colleague made me realize that it truly was the first time my little baby was not with me in over a year. Yes, just about this time she was beginning her life in my womb. I had just "met" her 12 months prior and she was a part of me in a way no other person could be. And now, suddenly, like ripping off a bandaid (but so much worse), she was not with me. That really hit me hard. Yet, I cried out of thanksgiving for that moment and all the moments of grace I experienced last week. 

    I am surrounded by women who are mothers. While these women have been my friends during my time of employment, I felt almost instantly connected to them on a deeper level; we are moms. I am surrounded by women who are mothers and who believe that life begins at conception. I am surrounded by women who are not afraid to speak that belief and we are blessed to work in a place that allows us (and requires us) to speak in this pro-life manner. Because of this, these moms played such a integral part in my return to school. From the moment I arrived in the school parking lot, my (mom) friends were conscious of the fact that aside from it being my first day back to school, it was the first moment without my baby. They hugged me, they cried with me, they held me while I openly sobbed about missing my baby. They prayed with me, they consoled me, they held space with me. In the place where I am more than often the one who is doing this for others, they were doing it for me on a day when I so greatly needed love, peace and counsel. These women did what women do and did so with such grace; they were with me, their sister. 

   In addition to these women being mothers, they are also the mothers of many of my students. Perhaps it is because I work with their moms or maybe there is no correlation, but these students often visit in my office. I have the unique experience of being a mom and helping my students understand mom-ness, but also I am not yet old enough to be "their moms" so I can also understand their teenage girl-ness. Yet, despite being "just" teenagers, these young women are so conscious, gentle and understanding. It is because of them that I was reminded that I get to be surrounded by daughters all day long. While my favorite daughter is at home with her grandparents, I get to spend all day with the "second best" daughters. They are my reminder that one day my daughter will go to high school and hopefully have an in school mom, too. 

     I am blessed among women. I wake up in the morning to a beautiful baby girl who will one day turn into a beautiful woman with a heart so pure and gentle. I am surrounded by the love of fellow moms who check in on my throughout my days just to be with me and remind me that the pain I feel being away from my baby is real but also that I am going to be okay; they did it and I can, too. I am surrounded by daughters; young women who may eventually become mothers and aunts. I am blessed to be in this lace of love; so many separate threads that connect to make something so beautiful.Without these women, I would not have made it through the week. I would have thrown the towel in so quickly. These women are beauty, light, goodness and more. They are my friends, my sisters. I cannot thank them enough. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cN67U2lc7vQ

 

The Mystery of Motherhood

"Sometimes when you pick your child up, you can feel the map of your own bones

beneath your hands, or smell the scent of your skin in the nape of her neck. This

is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood - finding a piece of yourself separate and

apart that all the same you could not live without."

- Jodi Picoult

     Last night, right before we were getting ready to turn off the lights and hit the hay, my husband said, "I could just stare at her all day and night; it's amazing. We helped create her." Every day, I feel like I spend hours just staring at our baby and thinking the same thing. Neither of us have said it out loud to each other before until last night. But let me assure you, I think about it every day - the mystery of this child. 

     For those who have followed this blog, you may have realized that I took a few months hiatus. Surprise, we had a baby. She has taken up every ounce of our extra time and we could not be any more blessed and grateful to our God for this gift. Right now, she is sound asleep in my lap and I keep taking breaks from thinking and typing to stare at her. She is beautiful, amazing, already so smart, incredible and such a gift. My heart swells with each moment I stare at her, interact with her and snuggle her. How did I get chosen to be this little one's mother? 

    I am grateful for my time off to be spent with her. In these days we have together we have spent many hours visiting with friends and family; especially with other new mommy friends and the many, many sisters we know and love. Sometimes this means we experience a few hours in the car together during the week. I used to love blasting music as I drove - it kept me calm while I was surrounded by maniac drivers. But now, I leave the radio off and silent, just so I can listen to her breathing and take many glances in the rear view just to watch her look around in wonder or her eyes fluttering as she sleeps. And in those moments, I can only pray "Oh my God, she is a miracle and so incredibly fascinating."

      These drives allow me much time to contemplate the great mystery of life's creation. Someone gave us a picture frame as a gift that says, "All because two people fell in love." While this is true, it is only half the story. We have kept her ultrasound pictures up on the fridge - every single one from the very first peanut looking ultrasound to her last 3D image that looks just like her (I mean duh...but like also, WOW). Each time I look at those, I think about her stages of development in the womb.  I think about how she had a heartbeat before I even knew she existed. I think about how she could hear our voices in the womb and how she shows she recognizes them now, outside the womb. I think about how we quite literally watched her grow with each picture and how we watched her move when we had those ultrasounds. I think about how every week for the last two months I got to hear her heartbeat for an hour; I didn't mind being hooked up to those monitors then. 

     And now, I look at her eyes and her cheeks and her lips and I think about how all that came from something so incredibly tiny; how we all came from that. And as much as biology could explain it, I know that there's more to it than just a fertilized egg that grew into a human baby outside the womb. God had his hands in this from every moment of her life. It was just because two people fell in love; she's here because two people fell in love with each other AND God's divine plan for our life- whatever that may turn out to be. She is a miracle because she exists and every moment, when I get to truly think about it, I remember her kicks from when she was in my womb and now I watch her kick so fiercely during tummy time. I watch her sleep with her hands by her face, just like how she appeared in every ultrasound. She was all snuggled up in the womb and she still turtles up when she snuggles on her daddy's chest. How did she have so much personality before she was even born? I cannot deny, even if I wanted to, that her life was so real before she was born. 

      We were lucky enough to have a dream birth experience with her, surrounded by great nurses and doctors. This little girl made her delivery a beautiful experience of creation. I still think, how did that happen to the three of us? How did we get so blessed to experience God's handiwork in action like we did?  When I recount those minuscule details of the day - how she started to alert of us of her arrival at 3am (and how she still, without fail, wakes up around the same time every night now...), to walking through the hallways wondering when she was going to come, to listening to her heart beating on the inside for hours only to, within minutes, hear her heartbeat on the outside for the first time - I am overwhelmed by the mystery of human creation. It's not just that God gave her blue eyes, ten tiny fingers and toes, and a precious button nose; it's that this bundle of joy started out as a dream quite literally the size of a peppercorn at her beginning and now she's this. 

    As much as I don't want her to grow, because I love how tiny and precious she is, I am in awe of the miracle that she is. Day by day, it doesn't seem like she gets much bigger, but when we hit milestones like having to size up in diapers or buy new jammies because she is bursting out of her old ones, I am fascinated that one day, this tiny human might have her own tiny humans. I am in awe of the fact that not only will we watch her learn letters and numbers, or discover her likes and dislikes, but we will also watch her fall in love and become a being all unto her own. As my MIL told me, if I didn't watch Joe grow up, I wouldn't have you. It's amazing; this journey of parenthood. 

     I've read so many articles on being told to enjoy it while it lasts but coming from mothers who find it difficult to do so when the baby is screaming or fussy or it's frustrating to not be able to be your own person anymore, because there's always a tiny human attached to you. Maybe it's my blessing, and I'm trying not to brag, but I am in love every second; even when she wakes me up in the middle of the night or poops all over her outfit for the 5th time in one day. If anything it means she is alive, she is with me and she is a gift from God. 

      Aside from all of this absolutely in love, mushy gushy feelings about my baby, I have also discovered a whole new love for my husband. I had no doubt in my mind that he would become a great daddy. I love the moments I get to witness and overhear when he is with her. Whether it's the moments when I hear him singing to her while he changes her diaper or when he's walking her around the house when she's fussy saying, "Daddy is here; you are safe," over and over, I am filled with happiness. He has never failed me as my husband and now, he is blossoming into an amazing father. We laugh together about the things we didn't know, we experience frustrations together when we can't figure out why she's upset, but my favorite thing to do together with him is just watch her. I have fallen more in love every day than I ever thought possible. As much as I thought I loved him then, I love him even more. He loves staring at her, wondering at her creation, and I love watching him watch her and fall in love with her. I never thought I could love more than I already did, but I was happily proven wrong. It's a great mystery: the creation of life and how one's life, as a result of another life created, continues to grow, form and be blessed in all the surprising ways. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8Tgw0V2XkQ

Like A Girl

"By watching her, I began to think that there must 

be some sort of special skill involved in being a girl."

- Harper Lee, "To Kill A Mockingbird"

  On occasion, when I surfing the net (does anyone actually say that anymore?!), I come across some severely influential videos or articles. I think of it as my means to broaden my brain. You know, read or watch something that helps you learn something new or ignite a fire within. While I prefer to learn through oodles and oodles of books, I do enjoy the occasion learning experience online. The best part is when it comes across my computer screen on social media. That means someone else engaged in some learning as well and felt he or she should share the knowledge. That's what happened yesterday when I stumbled across a video about what it means to do things "like a girl."

    Believe it or not, I was blown away. I didn't know that running like a girl meant running with her arms flopping around and her feet seeming dainty. I didn't know that doing things like a girl meant being afraid to get her hands dirty or disturb her perfectly painted face or mess up her hair. I didn't know that doing things like a girl was demeaning and wrong. I didn't know because well, I guess I never read anything that told me doing things like a girl was wrong. In fact, all my information always said that doing things like a girl was good...because well, girls SHOULD do things like girls. However, I watched a video the other day that told me that according to most adults, "like a girl" is an insult. But what the video also told me was that young girls believed that doing things "like a girl" meant doing things with all they had within them, like running as fast as she can, fighting with all of her will power, being as strong as she can be. And here, I thought it would be the opposite. 

     Watching this video reminded me of a conversation I had with my CREW girls in the car on the way to the beach for the day last week. I was sitting shotgun to help Sister Mary Anthony with directions and also playing DJ. At some point in our very long winded conversations, the concept of feminism came up. Aside from Jesus and literature, it's my favorite topic (although, I like to think they are all intertwined with one another). I like to think about the evolution of feminism, how it began, how it progressed, how it changed dramatically and where it is today. Sometimes I venture out and say radical, crazy things like, "Mary was one of the first feminists," "St. Teresa of Avila was a feminist," and of course, "I'm a raging feminist down inside." Usually this gets insane, crazy looks. Mary, the Mother of God, was a feminist? St. Teresa of Avila was a feminist? She was a cloistered nun. You're a feminist? Yes. These are often things I hear when I add my two cents. 

     When I was talking with the girls, we talked about feminism. The feminist movement came about during the Women's Suffrage movement. Women like Lucretia Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton (names I haven't forgotten since my grade school days) fought long and hard for my right to vote. Of course, this was a great thing and I never forget to exercise that right. We spoke about how to feminist movement changed from fighting for rights to fighting to be treated equally to men to be treated as womanly men. The fight of feminism these days seems that all women want is equality with men. In my own personal study, however, I see that men and women were NOT meant to be entirely equal. Yes, each are meant to have their own political, social and economic equal rights. But women, instead of fighting to be treated just like the men, should be fighting to be respected as women, the lovely ladies that they are. 

     I've said it a million times and wrote about just as much, but here's the view of  feminism that was present in the van among the women ages 14-40: feminism is relishing in the beauty that is woman. It is believing in your womanhood, embracing the awesomeness that is maternal instinct and child-rearing, loving the curves and the edges, loving the natural skinniness. It's not about being the superior woman, but rather being the respected woman. It is demanding the respect of men and not presenting oneself as an object to be claimed but rather a lady to be loved. Being a feminist is embracing all things woman and loving it. Oh yeah...stand in front of that mirror and tell yourself how lovely you look when you first wake up (yes, even before coffee), when you dress up really fine for that fancy date, or dress in shorts and a t-shirt for a day of hiking, or with your sisters, mom, grandmother, aunt, daughters, nieces. It's being a beautifully, strong lady. But trust me when I say, there's not much you have to do to be beautiful and strong. All you have to do is be yourself. So next time you hear someone say, you do something "like a girl," take it as a compliment; because YOU ARE A GIRL AND YOU SHOULD BE DOING THINGS LIKE A GIRL. That's always been my response to every, "like a girl." THANK YOU, I AM A GIRL. Be proud, ladies, be proud. 

Man, I Feel Like A Woman - Part One of A Three Part Series

"Women have had and still have a special role in opening doors to the Lord, 

in following Him and communicating his face, 

because the eyes of faith always need the simple and profound look of love."

- Pope Francis

    I've been desiring to write for the past week. I've tossed around ideas for a new blog post for the past for days. I've gone from blogging about a new poem I wrote this week (which is...wait for it...in two languages!) which has become my new favorite piece of literature to writing about the Sound of Music (which I've watched three nights in a row this week....I know, pathetic). But I could never get enough words out. I've started at least a blog post a day, but nothing felt right. So, I let it go. I stuck to writing my latest poem "las monjas de una monja" (one of my favorite Spanish phrases) and letters, lots of letters. Oh and watching the Sound of Music. I will be honest and admit that this week has been an emotional one. And well...that's the perfect place to start.

    Ladies. Did you ever have a day where you wake up, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, it's nice outside, your back doesn't hurt from a night of tossing and turning, and yet, you want is to cry. Nothing bad happened to you and as you go throughout the day, it literally seems that everyone is actually going out of their way to be nice to you. You smile, but you're still sad inside somewhere. All you want is to just cry and if someone, anyone is so nice as to just give you a random hug, you would actually burst into tears for no apparent reason. And on those days, often you want someone to ask you how you're feeling just so you can talk about why you're not sure why you want to cry and so you can cry, but yet, when someone does ask you how you are, you get defensive. Ever have those days? I've been celebrating almost 48 hours of being emotional. Most would complain about us being emotional, but guess what ladies, it's actually one of the most beautiful parts of being a woman.

     Tonight, in my Christian Marriage and Family class (which focuses mainly on my favorite, Theology of the Body!), my professor, the world renown, BIll Donaghy, made us go out on a excursion. This excursion consisted of us asking random people we found on a half hour walk three questions: Describe Masculinity in three words. Describe Femininity in three words. Describe Marriage in one sentence. After doing and asking people from my English professors to the nuns to random students passing by, I decided I needed to talk about this on my blog. And so, I present to you Part One of this three part blog series. Part One - Femininity.

     The first person we met on our excursion was someone I had quoted last semester in my blog about feminine beauty, Professor Mooney. He is someone who I absolutely adore. He is a literary genius, has a beautiful family but most of all is raging feminist (but you didn't hear that from me). He is constantly telling us "college women" to higher our standards, demand more of the men on campus and so on. Tonight he told us that femininity in three words is "strength, gentleness and clear thinking." Well, that of course got me thinking. After talking to quite a few more people, we went back to the classroom and talked about the results. I began to really but into emotion what femininity is for me. Like what really is being a woman?

       I began to think of the strongest women I know. I don't mean physically strong nor really emotionally strong either. What I mean is who truly embodies womanhood, femininity, and knows it. I thought of my nunnies, like Sister Marcille who is so proud of being a woman and Sister Cathy who takes sweetness to a whole other level to my Aunt Mary Ann, mother of seven, gorgeous and rambunctious children, to the saints like Teresa of Avila and Katharine Drexel. And then, I walked to the bathroom, did bathroom type things and as I was brushing the fly-aways of my hair away from my face, I realized, I, too, am a woman and proud of it. But is there a difference between the definitions of woman and femininity? Certainly.

       Most of the people we interviewed about femininity told us that it consists of being loving, caring and maternal. I would agree. A mother's love is a love not everyone can give. I may be able to "work" a dress that expresses my every womanly curve one day and a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, the next. I can also dress myself up, smother make up all over my face, or let my hair go for about three days and embrace the fly-aways. But is that femininity? Nah, that's being a proud woman. Femininity is being emotional, that is embracing our deep emotions, because every man knows we have them. Femininity is me acknowledging that I am having an emotional day and being okay with it because that's what females do, they embody emotion. Femininity is embracing our inner moms, or if you are a mom, embracing those motherhood skills even when you're not around your own children, even complete strangers. Femininity is, just as Pope Francis said, embodying Christ's love. 

     We, as women, are called to a higher calling. We are called to be the face of Christ's love. I've reflected many times on hands, hands of Christ, hands of us, hands, hands, hands. Next time you are around a mother, look at her hands, or if you yourself are a mother, look at your own hands. Remember all those times those hands held a baby, nursed a sick child back to health, mended skin with an awesome bandaid, wiped away tears of many a child, parent or friend, cooked dinner for a surplus of people, handed out another dollar bill for lunch money, lit candles on a birthday cake, played pretend with the little ones, became all dried out after washing hundreds of dishes in hot soapy water, but most importantly, were folded in prayer. Imagine all those hands have gone through. Those hands have loved, have literally embodied Christ's love for the world. Those hands are meant to be revered by all!

     Now, you may be thinking, well this blog is about discerning religious life...so like, that's perfect for us non-nunny women, but like...how does that apply to the nunnies? Someone once told me that in order to make a great nun, one must first make a good mother. FREEZE before you get ahead of yourselves. I'm not saying one should get married, have a ton of kids and THEN be a nun. No, no, no. What I'm saying is that one must have the qualities of a good mother in order to make a great nun. So, let's take it to another level. Every time someone tells me I would make a great mother (of like a hundred kids) I smile and thank them. I think of Maria from the Sound of Music with the seven von Trapp children. She knew them better than anyone else knew them and she wasn't even their mother. Of course...she became their mother. How many of us can honestly say that we know a sister who was gentle, loving and extremely maternal? I'm sure so many of us! So many sisters have embraced their maternal instincts and cared and protected children who are not their own. So many have taken on the role of motherhood more than one would could ever imagine. 

     As women, we are called on from femininity. Women are meant to be Love, that is, to be Jesus and love and care for all. What is it to be a woman? To embrace those maternal skills of love. Mothers love their children despite their children's faults. Women are called to love all despite one's faults. To me, being a woman is a beautiful thing. We are each so filled with emotion, we can have those emotional days, but without a doubt that's what makes us beautiful! Because we are "emotional," we can love. Our loving beyond all measures makes us strong, makes us feminine. That, my lady friends, is what being a true woman is. So whether, you're a mother, a single woman, a teenager, a sister, know that when you love yourself and love others so much, you are embracing the depth of what it truly means to be a woman. You have embraced God's beautiful gift of who you are! Be not afraid to cry, to love and to wear your heart on your sleeve, because we were intended to do that. In appearing "soft" we become so strong. Amen? Amen!

ps stay tuned for parts two and three tomorrow and Saturday!

The Nuns Caught a Case of the Mommies

"A good mother is irreplaceable."

- Adriana Trigiani

     A good mother is irreplaceable and I have an inexhaustible number of good mothers including my own mother. I know this because every time I get a case of the cold, flu, sniffles or insane coughing, the nuns get a case of "The Mommies." It all started Friday night, when my congestion began...as soon as I finished work and headed around the bend (which is a long, dark, scary hallway through the kitchen mind you...that apparently only the real deals can handle) to Formation, I was met with two of my close nunny mommies, Sister Eileen and Sister Mary, both of whom advised me to go to bed early after they asked me if I went through the multiple step pre-caution system at the Fortress Portress which really just included me de-germing everything before and after work with Clorox wipes. As I got sicker and more congested through the week, I was getting various Mommy Sick Tips. Last night, which was the peak of my illness so far, I had a nasty cough, I used most of the tissues in the Portress Office and definitely was losing my voice. Not only did multiple sisters advise me to drink my fluids, but many also were telling me just to sleep, rest and not go crazy (like normal). Sister Honora, who is also sick, came in from work while the sisters were at prayers and we just sat together feeling the breeze come through both the open windows. Needless to say, I was having a bit of a hot flash probably from a friendly fever. Later that night, Sister Cathy said she knew I was on portress because she heard me coughing before she even came through the door...oops. It seems I have so many loving and comforting mothers, not just when I am sick but also at many other times during the year. When I am away from home and I need a mother, one of the sisters always steps up to the plate. I am blessed. 

    Since it is National Vocations Awareness Week, I figured I would take my many mothers as an example of the vocation of Spiritual Motherhood. I tell my cousin that when I am a sister, I will have more kids than physically possible. Of course, that sounds so strange at first. Nuns usually aren't mothers at first sight, you see. They do not have biological children of their own, this is very true, but they have blessed so many children with the gift of having a Mother. I see myself as a teacher but I know, too, that somewhere along the line I will be working with younger children. Both as a teacher and a caretaker, I will be a mother, like the sisters are for me, to my students. Some may not have real-life mothers for various reasons, but many of my students, especially the younger ones will need a motherly figure while at school. 

     One of the greatest examples of Spiritual Motherhood I have ever seen is my dear friend, Sister Jean. Every morning when I drop my little Lizzie off when I am home, Sister Jean not only has a smile and hug for Lizzie but also for me. She is more than willing to converse with me for a half an hour while at the same time greeting every child by name as they walk through the door in the morning. I have known her to do this for as long as I have known her, which is two years. However, on the last day home for me, I was dropping Lizzie off at school when I saw Sister Jean walk up to the car in front of me. She not only opened the door for the boys, but she picked up the youngest's backpack, slung it on her shoulder, and then picked up the little Pre-Kindergartner, because he was still too little to jump out of the big SUV like his older brother. She then placed his feet on the ground and held his hand as they walked together to the front door of the school where she gave him his backpack and led him inside. She simply gave a whole new meaning to Spiritual Motherhood for me. 

     Now there are a few sisters who I have told many times that they have been such a mother to me. One of those sisters is Sister David, who took me under wing when I was baby Freshmen in High School. I had her as a teacher for the last period of the day, and often when I was feeling under the weather, she would send me home with her Mommy Sick Tips of drinking tea with honey and sleeping in the next morning. She sometimes would even encourage me to take a day off just to catch up my immune system. When I was having a rotten day and just wanted to cry, I would sometimes go to Chapel which I knew to be my prayer space. She would just know, like a mother always does, and would casually slip into the pew next to me and pray with me. And if I needed them, she always had tissues for me in her pocket. Of course, she was never without a hug or a shoulder to cry on. 

     I once had the following conversation with one of my high school English professor, Dr. Roche, a year after I graduated. It was a known fact among many of my friends then that I was discerning religious life, but most of the professors were out of the loop. However, many had their speculations and often they would casually bring it up in conversation. The conversation went like this: "Becca, I think you would make such a good mother. You are so caring and loving and you would sacrifice anything in the world for your children just like you do your friends." "That's so sweet, Dr. Roche, but..." "Oh I know, and because I know you'd make a good mother, you'll make a great sister. Because in order to be a sister, you must first possess the gifts of a mother. You'll be wonderful." 

     I had never truly thought about that, but in all honesty he was right. All of the sisters I have known, have that motherly twinkle in the eye. Whether it was a gentle smile on the day of my hardest exam, or a hug on one of my rough days, or even a tissue from their habit pocket on a day when I was struggling with the sniffle, they had it. And each sister possessed a different motherly twinkle because no two sisters are identically alike. Now some sisters may say they became a sister because they would never have been able to handle children of their own, but in the end those have been some of the sisters that were the most motherly toward me in their own way. They may not have a hug, but they gave me the friendship of a mother to her daughter, which then transpired to a sister to a sister. 

     Sisters answer a calling to love in all forms, love for children, love for families, love for the sick, love for the uneducated, love for the poor, love for all people. They are called to sacrifice a biological family to make the world their family and thus become mothers to the people of world. And while I know that sacrifice is a difficult one and often I battle with it, thinking about how much I would love to hold my own baby in my arms, I know that God may be calling me to be a mother to many babies who have no mother at all through my vocation as a religious sister. The stories God has planned for me are a beautiful piece of literature. 

And now for a little song that I love to dedicate to my own mother:

A Day in the Field of..Parent? - Field Day 2012

“To you who are parents, I say, show love to your children. You know you love them, but make certain they know it as well. They are so precious. Let them know."

- Thomas S. Monson

       At twenty years old, one wouldn't think I know much about motherhood. I've never had a child of my own, true, but when a new baby comes into your family when you're just turning twelve, it kind of turns you into a baby mama. I think the funniest thing is that my mother will admit that I changed more of my little sisters diapers than she did. Ever since she was born, I was right there, doing all kinds of things a mother does for her child, for Lizzie. However, the thing I can't stand is when people actually mistaken me for her mother. Like no...absolutely not. But anyway, I do things as an older sibling that some parents don't even do, especially volunteering at school. 

       When I was in high school the thing I loved to do on my days off was not go shopping or go out with my friends, but rather go to my grade school and volunteer to be "Lunch Mom" or "Lunch Sister" as the kiddies called me or to read for the kids or to help with art projects and gym class. I simply loved it. One of my favorite days of the year was Spirit Day (which many know as Field Day) because I got to face paint all the kids faces. Two of my favorite things put together: painting and little kids. I simply loved all the kids and yes, they loved me back. However, our grade school closed last year and so the kids moved on to different schools. Whenever I'm home now from school, I don't volunteer as much because I don't know where to start. I do play taxi though for my little sister and sometimes we will go to Mass at the Parish before school so the parishioner's started to know my face. 

        Two weeks into my summer vacation, my little sister brought home a volunteer form for Field Day. I signed it right away before my mom could even get to it. All I knew was that this was my chance; my chance to see my little ones and my chance to finally get my foot in the door at Lizzie's new school. It didn't even cross my mind that I wouldn't know ANY of the parents there...but there were some that I did know: the sisters. I wasn't even nervous about going into the school. I was about to do something I loved; something that I know is a foreshadowing of my future as an educator and as a sister. 

       So, the day finally came. Lizzie and I headed to Mass where I got mistaken once more as Lizzie's mom, but that was quickly corrected. The sisters all made sure they said their hello, giving me some extra love because they knew I needed it. I dropped her off and then headed home to get ready; I had an hour to kill. At quarter til nine, I hopped in the car and headed back to school where I proceeded to the cafeteria where I knew only one other person. I got my score card and schedule for Lizzie's class and we were ready to go. Our team was a mix of kids I knew from our grade school and kids from the new grade school. By the end of the day all of them were more than willing to hang out with me on a daily basis as they all asked me to come back and play with them. Could I say no? Of course not! 

       The day was filled with many games and many tragedies averted. Let me tell you, when you are eight years old everything seems like a potential tragedy. However, my motherly instincts (and my many education classes) helped avoid all of those potential tragedies. At the end of the sports events, we all sat on the black top and ate our lunches. All the kids learned a little bit about sharing that day, too. After lunch we headed in for the dance party that the principal, Sister Kathleen, put on for the Pre-K - Third Grade kids. What joy filled my heart to see not only the kids dancing and having such a great time but the sisters, too. I got to dance with my favorite little guy, Liam, who is in Pre-K and knew all the words to every song they played; I was in love with the blessings I had been given. 

        The whole day was a true blessing. It felt so great to be back in an atmosphere in which I was so comfortable and which I missed so much while being away at school. As elementary as some college students can be, it doesn't quite measure up to the innocence and playfulness of a second grader. I sincerely missed the whole scene and just the love the kids bring into my life. I couldn't stop thanking God yesterday!

         Aside from loving being back in the scene as "The Best Big Sister Ever," I was so blessed to be with the sisters yesterday as well. Seeing them not only at Mass in the morning, but throughout the whole day was simply a blessing. Our principal, Sister Kathleen made sure she stepped out of her busy day to thank me and congratulate me on my First Field Day at the school. Both Sister Jean and Sister Katherine stopped me in the lunch line to chat for a few minutes about life. And Sister Katherine later joined me on the dance floor with my little Liam. The fact that they barely know me aside my perpetual supply of cookies for their convent, and yet, they went out of their way to get to know me that day was beyond a blessing. It's sisters like that who truly fill my heart with joy; going out of their way just to share the love and give a smile. My favorite sister moment of the day however, were not the lunch line chats or morning pats on the back, but the smile on Sister Jean's face when I had been dancing with Liam, myself on my knees to be on his level, and we were singing our hearts out just having fun. For a quick second I looked over to see if his mom was anywhere around and instead found Sister Jean's loving smile. She had been watching the two of us dance together the whole song. She winked at me and smiled. I went back to dancing. When I looked again, she was gone. Yeah, that was kind of perfect!

           I think the best part of my day was the ability to spread the love. I love the above quote that tells parents to remind their kids how loved they are; it's true. And at Field Day I was able to spread that love and remind the children how much I love them, how perfectly precious they are. And a child for sure, knows when he or she is loved by someone; they give great hugs. And so, while I'm not physically a mother, there's a mother in my heart that got an awful lot of hugs yesterday. And while many may tell me I'll make a good mother, because I would make a good mother, I'll make a great sister for all those kids who will cross my path and bless my life. Here's to the love of children.

    Just a head's up: the blog will be quiet for a little while as I'm headed to New Orleans, Louisiana for some Hurricane Katrina Relief Ministry with school...and with my Daddy. Look forward to all those pictures and plenty of blog posts about my trip!! Can't wait for Service Project Number Two of Summer 2012. We leave at 9:25 tomorrow morning, so all your prayers are greatly appreciated, especially since Papa Guth hates flying!! Lots of love in Jesus Christ. Also, Happy Memorial Day to you all and a great big thanks to our military and veterans!!!