The usual suspects were in the children's chapel for today's 8 a.m. Mass at St. Louis: James and Colin with their parents, Timmy with his parents, and Jacob and Lucy with their parents (otherwise known as "us"). The usual behavior was exhibited: Jacob reading loudly from books (I asked him to whisper at one point; Jacob replied, "Shh, Daddy, I'm reading books"); Lucy wandering from here to there, dragging items off the shelves and handing them out (she handed several books to Colin and James who learned to say thank you!); meandering and dinosaur play from James and Colin.
Unusual behavior was on display too. Timmy was pretty kranky for some unknown reason. He lost his playground privileges this week. Most of the kids also tried to leave the room at one point or another. Occasionally two of them tried to open the door at the same time. Luckily, their efforts weren't coordinated enough to achieve success. When it finally was time to go upstairs for communion, first Jacob took off fast, then Colin, then Lucy, then James. Parents were having a tough time coordinating who was keeping up with whom. Both Jacob and Lucy wanted to walk up the aisle by themselves for communion. The problem with reigning in such behavior is fear of making a scene right at a most solemn moment in Mass. I had Jacob with me, so I gave him as much leeway as I could. Angie let Lucy walk but held hands with her. Walking back, Jacob wanted to check out the musicians not realizing the 8 a.m. Mass has only an organist. Since the choir's risers were empty, we (by "we" I mean "he") decided to sit there. Fortunately a second collection for Peter's Pence was taken and Jacob wanted to put some money in the basket. We had to walk back down to the pews to make our donation. That started the ball rolling back towards the children's chapel. Unfortunately, the ball stopped rolling and I had to pick up Jacob and carry him part way. He didn't protest verbally, which was a comfort to me as I walked past the pews. If only everyone was more pious and had their heads bowed in prayer rather than watching us making our exit.
The first line of today's first reading is "Who can know God's counsel, or who can conceive what the LORD intends?" (Wisdom, 9:13) Quite appropriate for us in the children's chapel, because there was a lot of meandering, loud book reading and dino play during the sermon. I remember the first part, where Father described how at the previous Mass a parishioner asked for something inspiring and he felt the pressure to deliver. At this Mass, no one made such a request; nevertheless, he asked that we take a silent moment to pray that he would say something inspiring. I remember having that silent moment of prayer, but remember nothing else from the sermon after that. I hope someone was inspired. I'm inspired to pay better attention next week.