3rd Edition Roman Missal

Friday, July 31, 2009


Pensé que pasaría algún tiempo a explorar mis raíces y sintió la necesidad de ejercer una habilidad que ha dejado prácticamente sin uso. Soy bilingüe y mis padres serían muy molestados si yo fuera a olvidar de donde vine. Mi esperanza es inculcar la importancia de la herencia a mis hijos. Que implica la comprensión y la verdad yo respeto ese mismo patrimonio.
En todo caso, esta será una buena práctica.
Mis recuerdos están llenos con las voces de mi familia hablando español. Cuando los tiempos son duros, escucho a mi madre dicendome, "Ora". Cuando la vida es maravillosa oygo a mi padre que me animabe. Ruego que mis hijos son bendecidos con el mismo tipo de voces familiares.
Bendiciones,
Migúel

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Tell me about him

I have been in contact with several families who are expecting a new baby(ies), very soon, for several months now. Some share tales of relief that "finally" they were able to conceive. Several others share stories that could only be told with the strength given only by God. They tell a more heart twisting story of unborn children lost.
Although my family and I have had a serious scare or two, we can only imagine what the loss of a child (both born and unborn) must do to everyone involved. I, and my readers, must understand that there is little that can be said by "outsiders" to bring the healing that only God can provide. Most of the time all we can do, all we must do, is listen. The part we play is to keep the child alive in memory.
I have been privilege enough to have many strong men and women of varying faiths as close contacts. Many of these beautiful people tell the same story of children lost. I now tell it to you.
In early 2001 a family consisting of a Mother, Father, and two boys (ages four and six) encountered tragedy. While leaving a grocery store the family's vehicle was involved in an accident killing the six year old boy and leaving everyone else uninjured.
Being a faithful family, even through this unimaginably horrifying event, they made funeral arrangements through their church. A pastor went out to speak to the family in order to properly write a eulogy. Being young and newly assigned to the area, the pastor knew very little about this particular family. He drove up to the house, rang the door bell and entered this now quite home.
The pastor had created and brought a list of Bible verses he would share with the family; verses, in his opinion, that would show Gods love for the entire family and would ease the pain of their loss. The pastor had prepared himself to lecture and preach his heart out; anything to bring peace to this home and get a proper eulogy written. His hope was that through his actions the family would see God.
As he was invited into the living room and offered a seat the pastor ran several of his memorized Bible verses through his head, he was ready. He sat down opened his Bible, looked up at the Father and Mother, now sitting right in front of him, and found himself unable to speak. The pain and longing for understanding was very evident in each of their eyes. The pastor realize, as if for the first time, that they had lost their child. They couldn't possible want to be lectured to. They couldn't want to hear Bible verses, how ever beautiful they may be. They wanted their child back. They wanted this all of this to be only a bad dream. The pastor remained silent and may have stayed that way had it not been for one more realization.
"Where's your youngest son?" the pastor found himself asking before he could stop himself. "He's in his room, coloring" was the answer he received. It was in that moment the pastor saw a slight change in their previously torched faces. He saw love for their youngest son. He now knew what he had to do.
"May we have him join us?" he found himself asking next.
Curious at the pastor's request the couple agreed to have their four year old son join the meeting. The boy entered the as normal four year old would, fearless in his own home.
"Mom, who's this guy?" were first words the Pastor heard from the boy. That was all he needed to hear to affirm him his plan would work.
"Son, I'm Pastor Prayerful, and I have come here to ask you some questions, if you don't mind that is." After a quizzical glance over to his parents the boy sat down on the floor and waited for the first question. The pastor began. "My boy, tell me about your brother."
"Well, he wasn't always nice. He's faster than me, so that means he can eat more of the food mom puts on the table."
This remark caught the pastor by surprise and he couldn't help but chuckle. Mom and Dad cracked a smile as well, so this led the pastor to continue. "Tell me more about your brother."
"When we went bike riding together he didn't always wait for me. I had to tell Daddy about that one. He didn't like me in his room. I always told him, if he played in my room we wouldn't have this problem."
The pastor asked, "What is about your brother that you like?".
"He was taller than me", the boy answered and continued. "He would sometimes help me reach the really big bowls on the top cupboard so we could eat cereal and watch T.V. together on cartoon mornings. He also was tall enough to scare some of the kids in our neighborhood who didn't like me coloring on their driveways and would chase me." This last remark called for some corrections to be made by Dad.
"Son, I told you about only coloring on your own driveway", Dad remarked.
"It's only chalk, Daddy"
"BOY", the father responded.
"Yes Daddy", the boy answered.
The pastor continued. "Is there anything you would like others to know about your brother?"
After a guilty chuckle the boy said, "Yes" and responded with this. "There was this one time the night-light in the bathroom was busted so I couldn't go in there by myself, so I went to my brothers room and told him I was scared of the dark. He got out of bed, grabbed his flashlight from his closet and walked me to the bathroom. He stood there flashing his light at the toilet with his eyes closed and his hand over his nose until I was done. Then he said don't tell anyone I peed with him in there; it's too disgusting." The boy ended his short story with another laugh while covering his mouth with hand.
Slightly embarrassed but mostly amused the boy's parent's smiled.
There were several more questions the pastor would ask the boy and his parent's and there would be tears along with the laughing. The pastor would find the opportunity to pray with the family as well as read a few verses from scripture. At the funeral their would be more tears, this time not only from the family but form all those close to them as well. At the end of the service several would comment on how long Pastor Prayerful must have know the family to have given such a whimsical account of one of their sons.
The Pastor would rely by only saying this.
"It's not that I have know them, but that God has known them. He has know them and called each by name even before they were born, and through Him they will know each other. The Lord will not allow us to forget the ones we love. For even though everything can change in a blink, God doesn't blink, so don't worry".
God Bless,
Michael