Today was Baby Wisdom's baptism. I love baptisms. I love the little gowns, I love the Pass-the-Baby-Round-the-Congregation for blessings, but most of all I love the smell of a freshly-baptized baby. Makes me misty, every time. Peace was sweet enough to wipe a little of that anointing oil from Wisdom's head onto a cloth for me to put in my baby keepsake box. Because I was too drunk on baby-high to remember to do it when either of my kids were baptized.
Now, I shouldn't say so aloud, but we haven't been very consistent about taking the kids to church. E-baby pretty much thinks that church is for weddings, funerals and baptisms. Oh, and going to church is a HUGE treat to her. At the beginning of mass today, she caught my sleeve, looked up at me with wide eyes and whispered "Look! There's angels! Mommy, angels up there!" Being a little spook-able, I half-suspected that she was seeing some supernatural vision that only children can see (any of you with babies will KNOW what I mean when I say that it seems like small children see ghosts-- darn imagination makes the hair on your neck stand on end). So I looked at where she was pointing, and saw 2 altar girls, about 10 or 12 years old, flanking the priest. The girls in their robes and sandals made e-baby think she was seeing a heavenly vision.
It was so poignant, a moment of pure belief, from a mind that has no limits on what can be. The super-sentimental in me likes to think that what e-baby saw were, in fact, angels singing for Wisdom on her baptism day. Happy grace-day, Wisdom!!