Eucharistic Congress 2013

Saturday was The Big Day: the first communicants' procession with the bishop, the Eucharistic Congress, and the children's Latin choir concert. Chris and I spent probably a cumulative hour planning out with each other everything we needed to pack, where we needed to be when (sketching it out on a white board), and with which children in tow. I certainly don't know how families with more children or who live in a true metropolis would do this sort of thing! My hats are off to them.

Chris took John earliest to the Congress in order to set up Chris' information table (Latin Mass Community of Charlotte) and deliver John to the Eucharistic procession organizers: all the First Communicants of the diocese were invited to process. I followed along with the other three children, intending to be 45 minutes behind Chris but leaving the house even ten minutes after that.

Those ten minutes almost caused me to miss it! But for the want of a nail, the kingdom was lost . . .

John posing with the Poor Clares in residence at our parish

We had planned where to park: a fabulous parking deck in the NASCAR Hall of Fame which connects via an enclosed walkway to the Convention Center. I didn't know how to park anywhere else, and, because I'd need to trek the kids back to my van during the day, I really wanted to be able to always stay indoors when walking back and forth.

I was ready to make my left turn onto the street for the NASCAR parking when, one car ahead of me, the policeman blocked off the road, shutting it down for the imminent procession. Oh no! I ended up driving all over downtown, getting farther and farther away, the procession only ten minutes from starting. Then I was lost amidst high rises. I was fighting back tears.

Queued up with his rose petals

Then somehow I made a turn in my lost confusion and there was the backside of the NASCAR museum right in front of me. That side wasn't blocked off! I was able to get into the planned parking garage and, as if my guardian angel were helping me out, the spot right between the elevator doors and Chris' car was open, so I took it!

I loaded up the gang and started trekking to find my husband and my boy.

John was placed at the front of the First Communicants, of which I estimated there were about 200

I rounded a corner and saw the procession a couple of blocks ahead and, in fact, the First Communicants were already walking by.

Let me tell you: there was no way this Mama was going to miss her first born in his first Communion year doing his first procession with the bishop without fighting the good fight! I was pushing 105 pounds of stroller plus two children in it with a twenty-pound baby on my back and a heavy, stuffed rucksack on my chest, but I started running . . . uphill those last two blocks. I jogged, I huffed, I puffed, and it crossed my mind that if the burning in my chest turned into a heart attack, at least most of the priests in the diocese were right there to give me Last Rites!

I didn't catch up to the children at that point and, when I got there, the Blessed Sacrament was passing by, so I stopped and knelt for that portion before rising and continuing on my huffing and puffing till I found my two fellas.

The procession was truly impressive. The order seemed to be Knights of Malta, tertiary religious, religious (nuns, brothers), first communicants, all the diocesan priests, Knights of Columbus, bishop with the Blessed Sacrament, then all the pilgrims from around the diocese with their banners. I wish I know how many people were in the procession: thousands, for sure.

Hardly looks like I'd been jogging for several blocks, does it?

We processed into the Convention Center, then settled ourselves at Chris' table before the children and I set out to view the seven aisles of booths (wares for sale, religious organizations, etc.).

And thus began my Very Long Day.

We'll find out soon, but years past tell us that there were easily 8,000 people there today in this massive Convention Center which is labyrinthine with many elevators. Many of my journeys involved taking one elevator over here up to this floor, walking across a while, then taking another elevator shaft down to another level, but keeping in mind that what is called "level 2" in one elevator shaft might be called "level 3" in another one. It was mysterious to me and reminded me of an M.C. Escher painting.

I could hardly maneuver through the aisles. Keeping four children well-behaved while viewing tables of sparkling and attractive wares was a challenge. Taking us all to the restrooms, where the line would be 25 women long and my toddler would be having a near panic attack (due to her new phobia of drains--subject of another blog post some day, perhaps) and screaming the whole time, "Don't flush the toilet!" was enough right there to send me over the edge.

The day called upon all my resources as a mother. I thank God for many graces.

Lunch was difficult, but God sent us a "guardian angel" in the form of a fellow parishioner. I trekked off to find the on-site restaurants, as outside food was prohibited. It took me half an hour to wend my way there. Then the line at the restaurant I chose was between 50 and 75 people long and not moving. After an exchange of tense text messages and phone calls with Chris, he was my white knight and came to join me. Meanwhile, I was standing in line with the two older children fighting, the toddler throwing a huge tantrum because of her shoes, and all the teenagers nearby openly sneering at me while I stood there, meditating on how today was the Feast of the Exultation of the Cross: sometimes motherhood is a cross. Sometimes all that is left to do is hang there and know we are close to Jesus.

If you're hanging on the cross, you're in good company!

Despite our best efforts, we can't always make motherhood look professionally well done or like a "Leave It to Beaver" episode. I hoped those teenagers sneering at me and whispering weren't being influenced away from the Catholic teachings on embracing large families!

Chris showed up, saw the problem, and we were wondering what to do when a fellow parishioner walked straight up to us and said, "I just took my kids to eat at the pizza place right outside. We were in and out. No lines." You could have seen a dust cloud behind us for how fast we were outta there!

Fed and somewhat calmed down, Chris went back to the table and I tried to continue taking the children past all the tables. I didn't even try to attend any of the talks.

Then it was two o'clock and time, I judged, to take the children back to our van to get Mary changed into her choir concert outfit. An hour should be more than sufficient, right?

The next mishap was when I parked the stroller next to the van and locked the brake for safety. I opened the sliding side door but had placed the stroller too close to the vehicle. Because the brake was locked, the stroller couldn't just roll backwards, so the door actually knocked it over with the toddler and baby in it--thank you, guardian angels, for somehow keeping their heads from not cracking on the pavement which they both hit!--and causing the stroller to scratch the door simultaneously.

I was trying so very, very hard to be a good and calm mother but I think my tension was radiating quite apparently by that point because a fellow parishioner of mine who walked by--her hands full with her seven children, two of whom are disabled--felt compelled to come back and ask me if there was anything she could do to help me. Oh dear, sometimes my abilities are that modest!

Now forty minutes had passed so I decided we needed to go straight to the choir room, no stopping at Daddy's table. We maneuvered through all those levels and various elevator shafts, only to find the last two necessary elevator shafts had stopped working. They'd been working all day! This was not Operator Error (with which I have much experience!), this was not my failing to understand. I found myself standing in a crowd of other choir mothers who couldn't get the elevators to work: standing there with our strollers, unable to take the stairs, unable to deliver our children to the choir room and we now had only ten more minutes.

Then God sent me another friend: the Daveys showed up out of nowhere! Mama Davey and the children were already in the choir room, so God supplied me with Daddy Davey and two Grandmother Daveys, all with hands free to help me. I considered my demeanor Extremely Tense at that point, for which I apologized later, but Grandma Davey assured me that I was being a needfully "organized" mama at that point and that she understood--but maybe she was just being nice!

I asked the Davey clan (who had no stroller hampering them) to take my John and Mary, do the requisite bathroom visits, put on John's tie (since I didn't know how!), and get them where they needed to be.

Then I had to explore the labyrinthine Convention Center to find an elevator that was working to get me back to the main hall for the performance. And that is where I found Chris and I think I was either tearful or had a wild and unpredictable look in my eye by that point.

Margaret coloring to pass the time: it must have seemed interminable for her to be in the stroller most of the day!

The children's Latin choir filing in

Our little Mary (4-1/2) was invited by the choir director to be in the choir. She hadn't been practicing with them all summer because the choir really is for ages 6/7 (depending on maturity) and older. But Mary knew many of the songs just by hearing them and, one day, the choir director asked me why she wasn't in choir. "Um, because she's four." Well, she asked Mary to try out, which she did right there, and she was given permission to join.

Mary was over the moon. For practices this was fine, but Chris and I began to feel some anxiety yesterday when we watched her in rehearsal. Could she handle it? Would she curl up in a ball on stage during the real thing? We assured her she didn't have to perform, we wouldn't be upset at all, but she said she wanted to proceed. I was really very worried about her ability to be up on stage!

Mary: the youngest and smallest as last in line

All the children on stage in front of thousands of people

The children were being videotaped and broadcast on jumbotrons, which was both lovely and sometimes very humorous when a young child (including ours!) was magnified while doing something very silly.

John on screen

Mary on screen

It is fairly likely that only family members have read this far in my detailed description of the day, and even more likely that only grandparents will watch the below 17-minute video of the concert. Although I will entice you with the tidbit that it is quite humorous to watch our four-year-old girl spacing out on stage, sometimes directing the music with her hands, sometimes standing on one foot and sucking her thumb. Yep, that's our girl!




We were pleased as punch to watch the choir. We think they did a wonderful job and gave glory to God, which, ultimately, it's all about. It is a real honor to be invited to perform at the Eucharistic Congress--which they have been welcomed to do several years in a row now--when there are many fine choirs in the diocese who could be chosen.

Jubilant after the concert: when the boy gets excited, he launches into a headstand. Think how many fewer headstands he'd be allowed to do if he were enrolled in school-school? Maybe I am raising a circus performer!

After our Very Long Day, we high-tailed it out of there and Chris took us to dinner to celebrate (and because this mama is nowhere near organized or energetic enough to make a meal ahead of time to arrive home and eat).

So tired after our Very Long Day, John took a little nap while we waited for our table at the restaurant

Sadly, the day ended with drama--bloody drama--after our delicious meal. We were walking back to our car through the packed parking lot when Mary walked smack into a car's side mirror. The screaming started and the blood flowed. Faces are quite vascular and soon her face was covered in blood, such that we couldn't even see the injury. Standing in the middle of the parking lot, without the standard useful items like running water and wash cloths one has at home, we made a decision very fast just to send her and Chris to Urgent Care.

Boy, was I grateful we happened to have two cars with us at that moment! I drove the other three children home and put them straight to bed, feeling quite shaken up by seeing my daughter in such pain and fear. I stand in awe of mothers who have to witness their children undergoing truly serious illnesses or injuries.

I stand in awe of the Blessed Mother who had to stand by the Cross.

Cleaned up, anesthetized, but waiting for her stitches

Mary ended up getting three stitches to her eyebrow. She came home with stickers to give to her brother and sister: so kindhearted!

Although I personally needed to exercise even more patience and peace today, so I felt tension that certainly did me no good, it was a true joy to see the children involved and performing, and I very much enjoyed visiting with so many friends whom I saw at the Congress!