A child's understanding

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Beryllos

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I was talking with my youngest son, now almost 11 years old, about something he used to do at Mass that I thought was quite pious and really cute.

“I remember when you were four or five years old, when the priest held up the chalice, you would hold up your hands like he did.”

“Yeah, I thought we were supposed to.”

“Huh?”

“He said ‘Do this. Do this in memory of me,’ so I did what he did. After a while, I noticed nobody else was doing it, so I stopped.”

🤣

Did your children, or perhaps yourself when you were younger, ever misunderstand part of the Mass or a prayer?
 
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When I was a young child, the OF still used the phrase “Lord, I am not worthy for you to come under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” (A couple years later they changed it to “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you” and kept it like that for a few decades before changing it back.)

When I was little my mom had told me that the Host was the Lord, but I did not see him going under anyone’s house roof. Instead he was going straight into people’s mouths (no Communion in the hand then either). So I thought the saying must be referring to the roof of the person’s mouth.
 
I always thought it was weird that at the end of Mass people say, “Thanks be to God”. I thought this sounded like thanking God that the Mass was over (as in they were bored the whole time and happy Mass was finally over!).
 
I thought this even as an adult, and wondered if the recent change some churches are making to say something like “Go now and spread the good news” instead of “The Mass is ended, go in peace” was a way of making it sound less like we were thanking God it was finally over.
 
When I returned to the Church, my son was only two years old. When he wasn’t allowed to receive Holy Communion at our first Sunday mass together, he started to cry and say loudly, “I want a chip! I want a chip!”

😬
 
When I was little I always thought people would say, “Pleased to meet you,” as they were shaking hands. It was confusing because I knew everyone very well at our parish and wasn’t meeting anyone new.

My brother remarked quite loudly during Mass one Sunday, “I didn’t know Father smoked!” Apparently he misunderstood him as he was washing his hands. He thought he said, “Wash away my nicotine and cleanse me from its stench.”

One of my kids was quite sure that Jesus sat in his robe and slippers in a little rocking chair reading his newspaper while drinking coffee inside of the tabernacle. She was so sure of it that she would ask our priest how often he has to refill Jesus’s cup and if he was the one that delivered the paper or if it was somebody else’s job. She used to sit for hours in front of the tabernacle talking to Him. She would ask which comic was His favorite and if He likes milk and sugar in his coffee. If it was cold outside she would ask if He was warm enough or if she should give Him her blanket. On hot days she thought He might enjoy iced tea or lemonade instead. She was so sad when she saw that the sanctuary lamp was not lit because she knew that He wasn’t home and she so dearly missed Him. To this day she spends every moment she can in Adoration. I wish all my children had such a loving relationship with Our Lord.

Another one of my kids asked me why the phone rings every time the priest “makes the bread turn into Jesus.” He thought maybe it was Mary calling to talk to Him.

My nephew was excited to hear that he wore the same brand of underwear as Jesus. He learned it from the Hail Mary (and blessed is the fruit of the loom of Jesus)
 
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13pollitos, these are the greatest ever 😀

I’m not going to be able to get that picture of Jesus sitting in a little rocking chair in the tabernacle with robe, slippers, newspaper and coffee or a cold drink, out of my head now.
It’s wonderful that she still loves Our Lord so much, you are very blessed. ❤️

I had that kind of relationship with Jesus, Mary and Joseph when I was very little. I remember when I was about 4 making cookies with my mother, which was a lot of fun and the cookies were good, and somehow I got the idea of giving the Blessed Mother the recipe for the cookies so she could make some for Joseph and Jesus. My mother wrote out the recipe on a little piece of note paper and we actually took this down to the church and put it on the altar of the Mary statue. I remember asking Mom later if Mary got the recipe and made the cookies and Mom saying she was sure Mary did.

That Mary statue is still there in my hometown church, Mom died a few years ago, and every time I pray in front of the Mary statue I remember being a little tiny girl and taking that cookie recipe which Mom had to put up by the statue because I was too tiny to reach it.

Another time I thought Jesus must be tired, so I took our battered family statue of the Sacred Heart and put it lying down on a chair for a nap and covered Jesus with a blanket like I would do with my dolls. I think I had the Mary statue similarly “taking a nap” with another blanket on the sofa. That afternoon, the priest came over for something (probably the one and only time the priest came to our house) and Mom had to move Jesus and the blanket off the chair so the priest could sit down and explain to the priest.

It was this sort of memory that made me cry a lot after my mother died and make me feel I needed to get back to having the faith I had as a child and go back to church.
 
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