Blessing

I like our church.  It’s a smaller church, a newer church, a liberal church.  They are understanding about small children.  “Relax.  God put the wiggle in small children.”  They are intelligent.  Any priest that tells the Descartes joke as part of his sermon is smart and funny.  And the priests are good with children.

Yesterday, because the cavalry wasn’t joining me, we went straight to the crying room.  Since we hadn’t been in a few weeks, the boys were out of practice.  Aidan is at the stage where he just can’t sit still for more than five minutes, but the older boys knew better.  They lost half their privileges for the day, and I was contemplating a punishment where they just laid in bed all day.  But then it was communion time.

We happened to be in the priest’s line.  The older boys walked up with their arms across their chests, not talking, not laughing, not pushing.  Aidan squirmed in my arms.  We got up to the priest.  He laid his hand on each of the older boys’ heads.

The Priest: May God bless you and slow you down.

Then he put his hand on Aidan’s head.

The Priest: May God bless you, but nothing will slow you down.

I know, right?

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