Holy Thursday

Last Thursday, Jimmy and I planned to attend evening Mass commemorating the Last Supper of Jesus with the Apostles, so we arranged to have Bubba and Grandpa watch the kids.

When I picked up Madi at school and told her of our plans, she insisted that she wanted to go with us to Mass.  I replied (sadly, and without thinking), "Madi, don't you want to stay with Bubba and Grandpa? You'll have so much more fun!  There's no fun to be had at Mass!"

Ugggh...what terrible words regretfully rolled off my tongue. In fact, the mother of a girlfriend overheard me, and chuckled at the absurdity of my response (I think). Was I crazy?  Here my daughter was asking to attend Holy Thursday Mass with us, and I was trying to dissuade her???

May I please have a do-over?

I quickly realized how ridiculous I was being, and I began to explain to Madi what would take place that night. As I began to tell her about Jesus and the Last Supper and how they broke bread together, she said, "I know, I know, Mommy. I remember from the Christmas pageant." I was impressed that she remembered those details. But then she said something that was even more astounding to me.

"And then Jesus washed their feet."

"Madi, who told you that?" I asked.  She firmly replied, "I remember from the pageant, Mommy. Jesus washed their feet!"

I knew, at that moment, that she needed to go to Mass with us. She obviously understood everything that took place, and I sensed that she would appreciate watching Monsignor Tom wash the feet of ten (male) parish members. It is one of the most beautiful services of the year.

Around the dinner table before Mass, we engaged in more discussion about Jesus washing the disciples feet when Madi asked us, "How do they pick the people whose feet will get washed at church?"

Jimmy said, "I think they know in advance who they're going to pick, Madi."

And then, I piped up and said, "Oh, I beg to differ.  I think the Holy Spirit tells them who to choose."

We got dressed and promptly headed out the door. Madi insisted that we sit up front so that we could see everything. We first sat down in a pew on the left side of the church, but little Missy wasn't quite satisfied with our viewing angle, so we got up to move.  As Madi and I headed for a center aisle, Daddy chose to go to the back of the church and walked around to meet us.

It was then that he was approached and asked if he would have his feet washed!

It brought tears to my eyes how the events of the day had unfolded and now Madi was there to witness her Daddy having his feet washed just like one of the Apostles.

The Holy Spirit, indeed...

Happy Easter everyone!