Were you ever wondering what the heck was going on? Why it was always so quiet?
I think that many adults still wonder that except for the quiet part…
Seriously, I would expect children to wonder what’s going on. That’s why God gave them parents to walk them through the beauty of the faith extended to them at their baptism…teachccd
Yes, I did wonder. I know I knew a little bit, it was God’s house so we had to be quiet, etc., but I didn’t really understand. I am embarrassed to say that I can remember playing a game when I was quite young… I would try to keep my head ‘stiller’ than the people in the pews in front of me. They were never aware of the game, so I always won!
My game did nothing for me spiritually, but it did keep me sitting still & feeling like a winner.
I was very well behaved, because we always sat directly behind a lady who wore one of those fox stoles that were popular in the 50s–with little fox paws and little fox heads with bright beady eyes. With a couple of little foxes staring at me I barely breathed let alone moved.
I can remember wondering what was going on. I remember back then knowing where we were in the Mass by whether or not we had done the long standing prayer (the Creed) and the long kneeling prayer (the Eucharistic prayer).
My first memory of being in church was on Good Friday. I must have been about 4 and when the priest prostrated himself I asked my mother if he was looking for mice. Then at Communion I wanted to know what was in the ‘mug’.
I don’t remember a time at Mass that I didn’t have small white book with pictures of what was happening. Long before I could read I was trying to match what was in my book to what was happening at the altar. Mom and Dad would explain when we got home. Fidgeting or talking got me the dreaded Vulcan knee squeeze, the one move Dad could make without the people in the other pews noticing – we had to be perceived to be better kids than the neighbours’ don’t you know.
I do remember when I was 6 years old, we were out side a really big old church (could have been Catholic or Anglican, I’ll never know) and there was a beautiful massive sculpture of a Holy water bath. It was so gothic and amazing I remember it like I was there yesterday!
P.S. The first time I ever entered a Catholic church was umm… 21 weeks ago? :shrug:
Post a link to the wholesaler…I’ll take 400 of those fox stoles!
Do you think they’ll take a parish check?
When I was very little Mass was in Latin and I did not understnd anything that was going on. I knew I was in God’s house, though, and had to be quiet.
I did fidget, though, and one time a lady was kneeling in the pew behind me, saying her Rosary with the beads hanging over the back of my pew, and I was squirming and hit my back on her beads and broke them. Nobody was happy with me that day, and that painful memory lasted a long time, and I agonized over it, even though I was only about 4 years old.
I don’t know which of us took so long to get ready, my Daddy in his dapper suit and tie or Mommy in her jacket dress and mink stole (no foxes) or me in my patent leather shoes and cute dress and coat, but we almost never got to Mass in time to sit in a pew. There were folding chairs set up in the side aisles, and Mother and Daddy rarely got to sit together, so I enjoyed my little self very much clicking up and down the aisle between the two of them. Must have been extremely annoying, except that I was so cute!
And we frequently saw Perry Como at Mass, usually on the steps on the way out.
Yea, I remember being confused about what was going on… watching people go up for communion… and singing. I fidgeted a bit, and was bothered when the hymnals in the pew racks weren’t neat… but I was probably best behaved at church than anywhere else.
I’m very interested! I would love to find out more inforamtion related to this topic. Thanks in advance.
me too, I need more detailed info
:rotfl: That’s hilarious. I just picture this den of old ladies wearing fox stoles and a terrified kid or two shaking behind each one. That’s terrible Fr. David :p. :rotfl:
I remember one Mass when I was about 5 years old. I had to cough, but I didn’t want to make any noise at all. I was afraid to make noise in church! I held it in, and held it in, tried hard not to move my throat, and then…the cough came out with such a loud, awful AACCKK sound that EVERYONE turned to look at me. I was mortified!!!
That’s nothing. When my dad was presented to the Bishop for a blessing before entering into full communion with the Church, I went with him. I wasn’t Catholic yet and I was very intimidated by the entire situation. I had a very bad cough and couldn’t control it despite my best efforts. Part of the service was walking in pairs up the center aisle and bowing to the Bishop - for some reason I was paired with the Deacon I’d only just met and was terrified of. I almost fell over I was so scared. Just as we bowed to the Bishop, I coughed severely (thankfully into my arm). The entire service I was coughing as quietly and little as I could but it was quite loud and very often - everyone including the Bishop :eek: kept looking at me. I kept picturing the Bishop leaning over and hitting me with his crozier. Finally the singer sidled her way to the pew behind me and gave me some cough drops :blushing:. I was so embarrassed the entire time. The funny thing is I don’t think I coughed once on the way home. The event lives on as ‘the time I coughed all over the Bishop’ :doh2:.
Mostly bored out of my skull. And to add to the torture, the playground was just outside the windows.
As an adult I attended my sister’s wedding in the same church. A few minutes in, my young son started fidgeting. Out we went to play on the swings. And by the end of the ceremony we were joined by a dozen or so other kids and their grateful parents.
I just asked the priest after mass when I was in first grade, and he explained the whole thing to me. I remember I was so interested and I didn’t want to forget anything. Sometimes, I still mouth along when the priest is consecrating the eucharist.:o
I remember being thrilled when I got big enough to be able to see over the pew while kneeling.
Love is Patient
My first memories of Mass were sitting up front watching everything Father did and following along with my mom in her missal (I read early). I also remember keeping track of how long Mass had left by the different prayers that had three parts to them and then, after Communion that Mass was almost over!
Except at Midnight Mass where no sooner was Communion over and the last prayers said than the priest launched into the “Mass at Dawn” (Dawn being ~ 1:30 a.m.???). That’s what I experienced for the first couple of years I attended Midnight Mass. It didn’t happen after we started using the Ordinary Form. For a kid anxious to get home to open presents that Mass at Dawn was not a prayerful time.