Ashes to Ashes

 

Went with M. to St Paul's this evening for Ash Wednesday distribution. This is a picture of my forehead so It's obvious I don't need the reminder that ends in dust to dust. And Father George was present, though not officiating in any visible way, as far as I can see. He has been assigned there. 

       But Lent reminds me of my young and holy years. The morning Lenten service was early at Our Lady of Good Counsel, as the priest had other Masses scheduled. It  was 6:30 as I recall, or maybe even 6 a.m. I wasn't used to waking up that early then, just rising in time for school which was later than today's start time, maybe 8:30 or even 9. I was devoted to attending every day. I would come downstairs where my mother would be fixing breakfast for my father, whose ride picked him up at 6:30. I'd look out the kitchen window, past Sproat's barn, and see the lighted stained glass window of the church. It seemed to be reaching out to me. I'd leave by the back door, and run up the hill behind our house, climb over  the fence, cross through the first cow field, and then slip through the wide gate between the cowbarn and the field, which was loosely tied to its post.   (Thinking back, Patsy Frisino probably left it looped that way to lessen the stress of numerous kids climbing over it.)  Then run along  the path past the pond on the right and to the last gate, which was usually left open. Almost there, the church was just a short distance away. 

   There were never very many people in the church on those mornings:  men on their way to work, dressed in their work clothes, unusual to see in those days when everyone dressed up for church; women whose families were grown, and me, the holy youngster. Nobody noticed or spoke much. If you remember we were told then that the priest was not to be engaged in conversation while he was in possession of the host. The quietness of it all seemed to heighten the holiness. The Mass would be not very long; everybody had things to do later on. 

    I would run back home the same way I got there. My mother would be there of course, in the kitchen getting ready for the day. The other kids were still upstairs in bed; it was too early to get ready for school then. My mother never watched television during the day, but this was special. I would turn the TV on to watch Dave Garroway on the Today Show. He ended every show by reading from the poem, "The world stands out on either side, No wider than the heart is wide."  That seemed to fit right in with the church service and the spirit of Lent. Holiness  pervaded all.  

  Lent today is different. But I do follow the same "sacrifice" that I started when I  was 7 years old.  I do not eat candy during Lent, not even on Sundays!