Tuesday, March 15, 2011


The other day on of the Small Steps prompts was about being careful of the feelings of our children.  My oldest, and the only one I get to see face to face so far, is not quite nine months old, and I glossed over this thinking it didn't really apply to me.  It wasn't as if I was going to belittle or ignore her efforts or ideas.  Then naptime came, and we struggled.  I paced and paced, and she cried and fussed.  My arms and back grew tired and achy, and my patience wore thin, and my tone of voice became harsh and my hands less than gentle.  She cried louder, and I heard the cock crow the third time. I cried as I comforted her, and eventually she fell asleep.

Another time I paced with the baby, this time in the middle of the night.  She fussed and struggled and wiggled, and I cried because I was so tired.  I prayed, and this time I didn't pray that she would fall asleep.  Instead, I offered my midnight pacing for others, and mumbled a Rosary.  When the baby woke up when I put her down, I decided that meant it was God's will for me to say another decade.  My soul was a peace, and my patience remained intact.

I resolve, therefore, to give willingly when my baby is extra needy, because this is the penance God wills for me right now.

Small Steps Together hosted at In the Heart of my Home

1 comment:

  1. This was a beautiful post. I caught my breath at your mention of the cock crowing...