- Like many of you, perhaps, we had always thought that some of our dreams had died when our son was diagnosed. Last weekend, however, I was able to live one such dream.
I have been a lector at our church for many years, and had always hoped my children would read with me at our family Mass. Our daughter was never interested, however, and my son’s diagnosis seemed to make it impossible for him.
Yet last weekend, we all swelled with pride at how well our son read with me on the altar.
When his Religious Education for Children director announced that lectors were being scheduled, our son told us that he was interested. He got his first assignment three weeks in advance -- the regular reading from the Book of Sirach -- and he immediately began practicing, first reading it to himself silently while at Mass, and then out loud at home, from a copy that I had annotated for him. I inserted reminders to breathe, marked spots for emphasis and pauses, and added reminders to “SLOW DOWN” and to be “LOUDER."
When his assigned Saturday arrived, he was ready. He wore his First Communion suit for only the third time, and looked very dapper.
But he had to be flexible -- immediately upon our arrival at church, we found that in our excitement we had forgotten the annotated reading. (After our final practice at home, just before leaving, we each thought that the other had picked up the annotated text, but it was left on a table by the door.) My son would have to read from the adult Lectionary.
But we needn’t have worried -- from the many repetitions in practice, my son had memorized the text and the instructions, and so was able to read without the reminders. I also had flash cards in my hand in case he needed a reminder to “SLOW DOWN” or to be “LOUDER” (I was standing next to him on the lectern), but I never had to use them.
Afterward, he proudly told anyone hearing the story that “Daddy didn’t have to use his cards.” Later, when I read the petitions in the Prayer of the Faithful, he finished each with “Lord, hear our prayer.” He also led the entrance and exit processions, holding high the book of readings, although he had planned that I would take it out.
On the way home, we asked if he had been nervous. He said that he was. When we asked how he overcame the nervousness -- which was not at all apparent to us or to anyone who heard him -- he said that he had concentrated on his speed, and on being loud enough.
After the Mass, many people came to congratulate him -- even a neighbor on our street who happened to attend that Mass, and one of his teachers.
We are so proud of our son that I had to share this experience with this group, both for the preparation that made it possible, and, hopefully, as an inspiration for all that is possible with our children if we give them the opportunity.
