“Come on children, get up brush your teeth and wash your face, it's already eight o'clock and we have to go to mass at ten.”
“I want to stay in bed, it's so cosy, I get up early all week, why do I have to wake up just because you want to go to church.”
That is how it was every Sunday morning; the rush to the bathroom, breakfast, shiny shoes, a veil on my head and off we went to mass. Generally, by the time we got there, my grandmother was already in the front pew, her little hat perched on her head and her rosary beads rolling in between her fingers.
Mass was standard routine for me, I would sit and listen to a priest drone on about how great (or not) our religion was, how much Jesus loved us or to what extent he suffered for us. This always confused me immensely, I could never understand if Jesus was actually cross with me or if he loved me unconditionally. As time went along, I was told that I would be doing my first holy communion and that my parents would be throwing a party in my honour. I was thrilled! Sweets and presents both sounded like a great idea. I always secretly wondered however how my grandmother managed to smile throughout these religious services; she never seemed bored or fidgety but always exhumed a sense of peace and tranquillity.
As time passed I started to understand better her life philosophies. After mass every Sunday, my entire extended family and I would normally go for lunch at her house for as long as I can remember. Everybody gathered around a big table talking and enjoying her Sunday roast or stuffed chicken. I also remember the fact that we were forced to go through all our vegetables even if we didn’t quite like them if we wanted desert after lunch. The highlight of these Sunday lunches came after that though, we would all gather around my grandma who would relate various childhood stories of hers to us.
To me she was a wise old woman, we would ask her all sorts of questions and she always had a reply for us. My staple question generally focused around mass and Jesus; why was it so boring and why did we have to attend mass every single week. One day she decided to share her secret with me.
My grandma had had a very difficult childhood, her mother had passed away when she was still a baby and her father, being unable to cope with the family had given her up to be fostered. Eventually she became a teacher and met a man who was much older than her, he took her out, and spoiled her, for the first time she felt as though everything she had missed out on in life up till now was coming her way; champagne, beautiful dresses, laughter and dancing. However all that glitters is not gold and her dream life soon came to a sharp halt when her boyfriend was involved in a fatal road accident.
This tragedy cost her a year in hospital, and she was told that she would never walk again. In her opinion, this was one of God’s many tests of faith.. My grandma admitted to not having been particularly religious at the time, and had not gone to church for years. Being bed-ridden for two months gave her ample time to reflect on her life, her past and her relationship with God. Gradually she began laying her faith in Christ and her patron saint, St. Anne by praying more and having complete and absolute faith in their mercy.
Even though there appeared to be no physical improvement, her spirits lifted a little more each day as she was convinced that her faith would save her, and that she would be able to overcome this period in her life and walk again someday. Her faith was strong and eventually she started walking again, amazing both medical staff and family members.
After this incident her life changed completely, she met my grandfather and they started a family together. Her faith remained strong and she made it a point never to skip a mass or miss out on saying the rosary. She admitted that God had placed further challenges throughout her life path, however she never gave up or doubted her faith. According to her, feeling close to God made her feel safe.
Nowadays I am a mother myself and am able to appreciate her wisdom further and cherish her memory forever in my heart. I finally understand the beautiful gift of love she left me.
Thank you grandma for understanding how I felt as a child, for guiding me in the right path and teaching me how to love, respect and honour life and our Creator.
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