 |
| | The author, with her husband, Jeff,
and daughter, Patricia | |
When our daughter was first born, my husband and I were forced to precisely calculate every moment of our schedule in order to get anywhere on time. Of course, on the day of my daughter’s Baptism, we did our best to be prepared, carefully planning changings and feedings so our daughter could make it through the Mass and the baptismal ceremony.
Yet, even in the midst of the day’s activity, the moment I slipped my daughter into her dress — the same dress in which I had been baptized 27 years earlier — tears came to my eyes. She looked absolutely beautiful. But what really got to me was the thought of my own mother lovingly dressing me in that same gown.
Now a mother myself, I felt honored to do the same for my own child. I imagined my baby, in years to come, wearing another white dress — for her first Eucharist, then, perhaps, for her Confirmation, then, yet again, for her wedding day. Just as I had grown and continued the traditions of the Church, I hoped that my child would do the same. Her Baptism would be the start of what I hoped would be a lifelong faith journey.
When we arrived at church, I realized that though my daughter was only 8 weeks old, she was already playing a part in gathering people together in God’s name. My husband’s brother, father, and two aunts were already in the pews. Though they are neither Catholics, nor regular churchgoers, they were pleased to attend, anxious to see our baby, and excited to share the day with our child.
When it finally came time for her Baptism, the priest traced a cross on her forehead and asked the parents and godparents to do the same. My husband was hesitant, since he was not raised in any faith. I whispered to him that he should do it too, and he did. I was again struck by the power of my daughter’s Baptism to move people to worship in new ways.
Then we brought her forward to the baptismal font. She remained ever so calm as Father announced, “Patricia Jane, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” But beautiful as the physical actions of the baptismal ceremony were, what truly moved me was the deeper understanding of God’s infinite love that I experienced that day. God worked through my daughter to bring people together in love. Twenty people of all faiths and backgrounds gathered at our house to celebrate the sacrament of Baptism. I have never felt a room so energized by love.
I thought my daughter’s Baptism would be a special day of love and transformation for her. I never imagined that it would change me as well. It took 27 years, but I can now appreciate my own Baptism, and I feel that I too have been reborn. The sacrament of Baptism reminds me of God’s love for my daughter, my family, our world — and the ways in which that love is extended to us each and every day.
CD
Sarah Perry is a children’s librarian and writer.
Photo courtesy of the Perry family.
