My daughter was confirmed yesterday. She was up early, hair and makeup perfectly applied, dress, excuse me "The Dress" carefully slid past hair and makeup. She was beautiful. She glowed and her eyes sparkled. I gave her a silver and turquoise cross on a silver chain. Tears formed in her eyes, "Thank you mommy, I'm really pretty now. It is all perfect. But you better get dressed or I'm leaving your butt behind".
We had to be there very early so that they could get their last instructions, and get lined up. It was a good thing too, the place was packed. There was an antique car show at the museum next door and the patrons were using the church's parking lot. The entire drive to church my daughter kept repeating, "Please don't let the Bishop choose me...please don't let the Bishop choose me.." Guess who he chose?
The Bishop cast his beady eyes across the teenagers and came to rest on my daughter. He walked forward like a cat approaching a little sparrow that had fallen from it's nest. He extended his hand, bending slightly forward and said, "Would you like to come up here and talk with me, young lady?" My daughter made a soft response. The Bishop's face, which was wearing a gleeful little smile in anticipation of the torment he was preparing, suddenly fell in confused sadness. "Did you say 'No'?" he asked with a squeaky voice and a trembling lower lip. I thought I could see a tear welling up in his confused little eyes.
She did not say no, she went up and answered his questions pretty well and he thanked her. She was surprised at how easy it was. We went home, changed clothes, (Mom, I'm so glad I didn't get the really high heels) had a party, had cake and shared stories of my baby growing up. The weather was perfect, the food was wonderful and my baby was beautiful
...peace and love to you all
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