On Sunday, something pretty special happened to me.
At my church, every Mother's Day our priest does something nice for the mothers after Mass. Yesterday he had a fresh flower for each mom, as well as a paper flower colored and personalized by students at St. James school. Father Dennis asked the ushers and some of the husbands and sons to come up to the altar to help distribute the flowers. Each mom in the congregation was asked to stand so she could be honored.
Not many people know that last summer my husband and I had a miscarriage. We lost our baby at seven weeks gestation. It was sudden and had a big impact on me. I think about my baby often.
Bryan, my husband, leaned over to me at Mass and asked if he should go up and help distribute. I just shook my head and whispered, "No, I'm kind of a mother, but not really." After I said it, I thought, No, I really am a mother. But I didn't want to stand and make myself known because my lost baby was not public knowledge.
So I sat there thinking about how, if the baby had lived, I would have her now in my arms. I would be watching her little eyes, caressing her cheek, letting her tiny fingers grip my own. Sadness spilled over me and tears came to my eyes.
One of the ushers, a young man who is very slightly mentally challenged, was helping to pass out the flowers. His name is Danny. He's incredibly friendly, works at our H-E-B (the town grocery store), and knows me by name. He always says hello and puts a smile on my face. As he was walking down the main aisle, he was focused on his task of distributing flowers, and he purposefully brought a flower to me. I was not standing; I in no way was trying to make it known that I was a mother, but he brought a flower to me. It was a vibrant pink carnation, a rich, happy color. I smiled and took it, feeling very honored, as if it was God's way of saying he loved me, and he knew my sorrow. It only made my tears spill over.
Then, a few moments later, Danny came back and brought me a paper flower. I smiled again through my tears and took it. The note written in the center of the crayon colored sunflower read, "Mary is the mother of everything". I heaved a sigh. How true that was. Mary, my mother, is also the mother of my precious child; she will not let her be lost. My child in heaven is now being watched over by the Mother of God.
I knew it was not a coincidence. It was a special moment in a world full of suffering, a message that God is near.
God is taking care of my little child, keeping her safe in his arms, as he has always and will always take care of me.
Thank you Danny, for allowing God to work through you to lift me.