Dear kids,
It's 7:19 and you are giving your mom a little quiet time by sleeping in today. I can't believe how much our family has come through over the last year. Easter put me in a contemplative mood yesterday.
A new school. Dad and I surprised you all with the news of a major transition last spring. I know our neighborhood school is wonderful, and it was difficult to decide to change course and switch you kids into Catholic school. It took us many years of prayer and conversation to make that decision, and we trust that over time, the transition will offer each of you something great. I hear you guys grumble about uniforms and faith education from time to time, and I hope that in your hearts, you know we are looking out for what we believe to be the most important part of your self-development. There are good teachers and good people everywhere, but we are hoping you can learn to lay your trust in God in this new place.
We just returned from Disneyworld and your first airplane experience. The ride home was bumpy (and airsickness-producing), but the days beforehand were filled with laughter and stretching of ourselves. There is a lot of magic in seeing the creativity humankind puts forth. We will not forget the Great Movie Ride with the mobsters or the Peter Pan Flight for some time to come.
Yesterday in church, you sat pretty quietly. I looked around the sanctuary and realized most of you kids are past the wiggling little kid stage. What seemed like an endless time of shushing is gone, replaced by the stage of you quietly squeezing one another's hand too tightly during the Our Father or playing some mysterious finger game stealthily when I look the other way. I'm breathing a sigh of relief, to be honest. You come home from church sometimes really moved by the words you hear. Last week, Tommy remarked that kids around the world are hungry and need help, and so maybe getting an iPad shouldn't be the top priority.
After Mass yesterday, we did something as a family that I didn't expect but found amazing. We delivered your cards and the cards other church kids had made to a senior living facility next door. We met new people, and we heard an old woman sigh, remembering aloud all the places she had visited in her life. She spoke of her life knowing she had reached her final chapter.
The residents were so happy to see you kids. You shyly knocked on doors, expanding your circle to include a generation you don't usually reach. You made them laugh and smile. You hugged them.
My children, if I can leave you with anything, let it be that this gift of yourself is more important than the other things society is pushing us to achieve. You are smart and talented, but getting As and getting picked for a sports team or play is not as important as touching another life and putting someone else first. You learn so much from giving.
I don't really have to give you that advice, though, kiddos. You do it so naturally.
I love you.
Mom
