Midnight Mass

I'm publishing this in its place, where I began drafting it years ago, trying to capture the magic of our first Christmas in Turkmenistan...

The church was packed with girls in frilly dresses and boys in costumes, diplomats and drug addicts. There is much that I learned about the people who rely on the little church in Turkmenistan that I didn't know then. This was my first glimpse into that world. It reminded me of the early church. There was a great confusion and a great need. The baby king reigns among the blind, lame, crazy and poor.

I carried my baby through the crowd and showed her the nativity scene in the darkened shirt. Light drifted down from the figure of an angel.

We wound up seated there at the front, perpendicular to the altar. I didn't feel comfortable nursing Ruth Anne squeezed between Joe's bellow arm for the Uillean pipes and an old Russian lady. As Ruth Anne grew more agitated I retreated out of the sanctuary and back into the throngs. There was no where to nurse. I tried to crouch down, so that Ruth Anne could latch on beneath the sling. I remember a half formed prayer - "Mary, help." Then another woman opened the door next to me and I followed her into the office. She unzipped a little slit in her dress, scooped up her toddler and began to nurse.

Do you see how He came into the world?

February 17, 2012