Today I heard a version of O Come O Come Emmanuel, which was absolutely beautiful. I cried. The song was rendered as part of the meditation after communion at a Mass. Maybe the surroundings were important, as the church was named in honor of St. Theresa of the Little Flower and this was a church where I grew up.
I had transferred to the school attached to the church when I was around seven and this was part of my parents' attempt to let me have a good Catholic education complete with praying. They knew I was not inclined to pray when I woke up, and it was unlikely that I would pray during the day as I was more inclined to play. Running did have its advantages, it was fun and there was a big yard also attached to the school and church. Falling down, getting bruises on my hands and knees stopped me for long enough until they healed and the knees could move painlessly. Also the praying part was like an agreement, if I prayed in church every morning, then all will be well. At that time, I understood enough to know when not to ask questions and obey, for their piece of mind at least.
Copyright Jennifer Bailey