by Mary Clifford Morrell
Going out to dinner with our six boys was something our family relished. We couldn’t do it often, given the expense, but often enough for it to take on elements of ritual.
We let the boys order for themselves, and for the most part they ordered what they knew they could finish, and always ordered water to drink because not only was soda frowned upon, it added up on the tab.
During one visit to our favorite restaurant, the waiter got around to son # 3, who framed his order, saying, “I’ll start with….”
The table exploded with laughter before he could identify his appetizer, something no one ever ordered since the meal came with a salad bar. He also ordered soda. His brothers asked him if he came into money and was paying the bill.
We never figured out why he broke with tradition, which for some reason was not enough for him on this day, and ordered more than he should have, but it’s in the family archives.
The concept of enough is a difficult one for young children to grasp, and for older children and teens to accept. It’s also often hard for adults to embrace. We may come to a point where we feel if we had more of something, we would be happier, but that happiness is fleeting as our idea of enough gets broader and deeper.
Embracing the state of “enough” requires an understanding of the difference between needs and wants, and the discipline to at least keep the two balanced.
The truth is if we can get a handle on our own understanding of enough, and what it means as far as our own choices go, it is easier to pass on to our children instead of actively trying to teach it to them.
Many children will outgrow their collections of stuffed animals or blankets when they realize there’s not enough room in the bed for them and their collection. It may be more difficult to make a change when it involves screen time or sweets, antagonizing a sibling, complaining or wanting to have just one more snack. It’s not long before children feel like they are in competition with their friends, who may have more or better than they do. This perceived lack can leave them unhappy and unable to be satisfied with the blessings they do have.
Helping them understand that they have enough, do enough and are enough will go a long way toward their developing a positive mindset as adults.
During my lifetime as a parent, there were honestly many times when there wasn’t enough of something, especially money to pay all the bills. I had to make a conscious choice not to live in a mindset of not enough because it often seemed to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Then my pre-school class taught me something.
We were learning about Johnny Appleseed and decided to use the Johnny Appleseed song as our classroom prayer/song: “The Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, the sun and the rain and the apple seed. The Lord is good to me.”
They sang it, hummed it, drew it throughout the entire school year.
I adopted it for my own, and still sing it to myself when I need reminding about the difference between want and need, and to stay aware of the sun and rain and apple seeds of my life.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
More and more, one of the most common words I hear from parents is “overwhelmed.”
It’s easy to understand the feeling, especially as we continue to deal with the life-changing challenges of a pandemic. Even without a pandemic, parenting can sometimes leave us feeling like we are drowning, and no one is throwing us a life jacket.
Exhaustion, overwork, a sick or medically compromised child, inadequate finances or health insurance, fear about children’s safety, sibling jealousy, trying to balance more plates than is humanly possible and then faulting ourselves for dropping some. The reasons for feeling overwhelmed may be different for every parent, but for most they are almost too numerous to list.
What then, could I possibly suggest, as a help for overwhelmed parents? The Internet is already full of suggestions. The last thing I’d want is to regurgitate someone else’s ideas.
Then I remembered. Years ago, I wrote a small book entitled, “Through the Strength of Heaven.” I haven’t thought much about it since it went out of print. It was a collection of my columns written to encourage parents and others who were struggling for one reason or another.
I borrowed the title from the Lorica of St. Patrick, a prayer attributed to the well-known saint who faced kidnapping, enslavement, hunger, and brutality but never gave up his God-given mission to the Irish people. He wrote that he was able to accomplish what he did “through the strength of Heaven.”
I was happy when a Catholic publisher decided to publish the book, but I was disappointed when they wanted to change the title to something “catchier.” They chose a title from one of my columns, “Angels in High Top Sneakers,” and developed the cover around it. But I was sorry to lose the strength of heaven, because it spoke so deeply to how I got through so many rough patches in my parenting life.
Certainly, it was prayer and a reliance on God’s strength that got me through when my own strength was waning, and believe me, there were times when waning meant running on empty. What I began to realize is that it wasn’t just strength I found in prayer, but guidance in making decisions, insight when I needed it, wisdom in relationships and being led to the right people and right resources to lighten my load and help me for the good of my family.
When I read the Lorica of St. Patrick, I cried, because it was exactly what I had been experiencing, even with my poorly composed entreaties for help—also known as prayers.
A lorica is known as a prayer of protection, so the full prayer is also known as the Breastplate of St. Patrick. Because of its length I will share those parts that were most helpful to me in overcoming the sometimes overwhelming experience of parenting, and reinforced the truth I felt every time I prayed, “I arise today thought the strength of heaven…
I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun
Brilliance of moon
Splendor of fire
Speed of lightning
Swiftness of wind
Depth of sea
Stability of earth
Firmness of rock.
I arise today Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me …
I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Thrones,
Through confession of the Oneness
Towards the Creator.
St. Patrick’s prayer for protection became an important part of my prayer life, but I suggest to anyone who needs healing of some kind to pray in a way or with prayers that are most meaningful for them. Established prayers are easy to remember because for many of us we memorized them as children. But the saints tell us that what’s needed most in prayer is love, honesty and humility.
The best way to pray is to say what’s in your heart and ask for what you need, especially if you need encouragement to pray. As another beloved saint, St. Francis of Assisi, reflected, “Prayer is true rest.”
What parent doesn’t need some rest?
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
As with most kids in my generation, childhood included exposure to daytime soap operas. We may not have actually taken a seat on the couch to watch them, but we probably have memories of their titles or their theme songs.
Surprisingly, one soap opera has served as an inspiration for me, in both my professional and spiritual lives. I often recall the voice of its introduction, especially when I’ve thrown away important moments: “Like the sands of the hourglass, so are the Days of Our Lives.”
The image of the hourglass with sand slipping out, beyond our control, can be a powerful reminder that our time is limited and, especially when we have children, we need to make an effort to give children what they need most—our time.
There is no doubt that today’s lifestyle, with the need for parents to work one or more jobs, and to sometimes leave young children in childcare to accommodate work schedules, is a challenge to time spent with them.
Fortunately, the times that are valuable for our children include those moments when we can talk with them and laugh with them, not just when we take them to special places.
When my youngest of six was entering fifth grade, I decided, for a variety of reasons, to move him to a different school. I chose one in the town where I was working, which required me to drive him to school and pick him up to take him home. If I kept him locally, he could have taken the bus and gotten dropped off at the corner where I live.
I felt the drive to school every morning and our drive home would add to the time I had with just him, time for talking about what happened that day, learning more about him and his school friends, stopping for something to eat or drink on the way home, all simple things that were invaluable to our relationship.
When he entered high school and could finally drive, he would call me on days when they got out early and ask if I wanted to go out for lunch. We had something that was nurtured in fifth grade and has continued throughout adulthood—conversations.
Conversations can happen in the kitchen while preparing dinner together and cleaning up together, they happen on the way to sports or music or cheerleading. With young children, they happen during the important moments of bedtime and reading together and talking about a story.
With my grandchildren I have found that folding laundry, doing puzzles and being involved in an activity that relates to my work, writing, or Pop’s work, carpentry, are times of great conversations. They love to talk about what they like to do or give suggestions on how they would run a business like Pop’s if they had one (I’ve written a few of them down!), and particularly what they will do with the money they make, which opens the door for some talk about the value of saving money.
Of course, sitting around the dinner table together is an invaluable time for family discussions. It’s also a wonderful time for a simple shared moment of Grace, and a time to remind your children that you pray for them without ceasing, especially when you cannot be together.
It’s important for us, as parents, to not get discouraged if we feel time is limited with our children. There are still many unscripted and spontaneous moments in which they can feel our presence and know they are loved.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
When my son and his wife had to spend months at a children’s hospital in another state after the birth of their fourth son, I had the privilege of taking care of the other three brothers.
You can learn a lot when you spend that much time with young children.
The youngest was born in October so the usual rituals of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas would have a different look that year.
New rituals, not only for the holidays, but for everyday getting-through, were born.
The weekend ritual began with the boys packing a backpack, a toy or two, and their favorite blanket before their aunt and uncle picked them up to drive them to the hospital to see their brother, and to spend the weekend with mom and dad in a temporary apartment.
It was something they looked forward to and planned for all week.
Their real home became the getting ready place for rituals that would happen, but look different, in their new temporary home. There were Halloween costumes and trick-or-treating but in a different neighborhood—the hospital.
As Thanksgiving approached, my six-year-old grandson announced out of the blue, “I really love Thanksgiving,” hoping that his parents and baby brother would be home in time to celebrate.
When I asked him why, all the things he pointed out were part of the ritual: “We decorate the table. Dad sits here and I get to sit here, and mom always makes (a long list here) and we pass everything around and it’s so delicious and we talk about stuff.”
If we look back to when we were young, we may be surprised that some of the most memorable rituals or celebrations the are simplest ones.
For me it was the Sunday ritual of going to my aunt’s house after Mass and sitting around the small kitchen table with five other children vying for space and some portion of the Syrian bread and olives that usually graced the table. It was loud, it was delicious, it was memorable.
After that we went back to our quiet house and settled in to watch TV together while Sunday dinner was cooking. We always had an early dinner on Sunday, but some luscious little treat saved for later with tea.
I loved Sundays and I remember Sundays because of the ritual.
For my sons, I think most would say they loved picking out the Christmas tree, tying it on the car roof and then going to the diner for hot chocolate and something to eat. They valued it enough to continue it with their own families.
While family life today may not provide the same opportunities for time together with extended family, there are other simple rituals that will help build relationships within the family and become wonderful memories for your children.
You may already have them woven into your family life. Taco Tuesdays, Wednesday Waffles, bedtime stories, pumpkin picking, movie nights at home, evening prayers, are all simple rituals that bring lasting memories.
Consider sharing your memories of rituals with your children. You may be surprised what they share back.
Mary Regina Morrell, mother of six and grandmother to nine, is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.