The weekday mass had ended and the priest and two deacons
moved to the front of the altar, knelt and turned to leave the church. Before they could begin leaving, however, a
man walked up to the priest and in the quiet of the church I could hear him
softly ask: “Father, will you bless my
baby?” And the priest gently put his
hands on the baby’s head and began to pray silently.
And in those few moments, a small child standing in a nearby
pew went up and stood behind the man, waiting for a blessing also. And then, without any word being said, other
small children rushed up the aisle, lining up for the priest and deacons to
pray over them. And they did. And not a word was said aloud.
The last child, in line for the priest, was a tiny boy who
had waddled more than walked up to the front by himself. The priest had to kneel down to cup the small
face in his hands, as he smiled at the child and began to pray.
And I felt God was blessing us all.
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