A story for you all.
Yesterday was Sunday. Typically, Sundays are really not special. You know, people go to church, people watch football, people goof around outside. Some people sleep. That’s Sunday.
However, yesterday was special. Why? Because my ex-girlfriend’s daughter had asked me to go to her first communion at her church, and I pledged that I would, in fact, go, for her sake.
I have no idea if any of you have been to a first communion. I hadn’t. But it was very interesting. The idea is that instead of deacons or whatnot, children (all about the same age) read the passages from the Bible. Now, I must say, I am not a Biblical scholar by any stretch of the imagination. However, I knew that these cute kids, all dressed up in their Sunday best, had little presentations that they had to give.
Now, I had no idea where my ex’s daughter was in this whole presentation, but I knew that she had to do something, because I had seen and heard her practice. I knew she was kind of nervous.
Imagine my shock when right at the beginning of Mass, she was one of the first to read from the Bible!
Ok. Here’s something you should know.
When I first met my ex-girlfriend’s daughter, she was not a good reader. Diligently, as any father would, I would like to think, I worked with her. Daily. I bought educational videos. I read phonics books to her, and lots and lots of Dr. Suess. After a while, I could see her reading improving. But not too long after that, her mother and I split up (after 2 plus years).
So, naturally I was shocked to see her up at the podium reading for the whole congregation.
I was so proud, I cried.
She will remember Sunday for the rest of her life, and I will too. For the rest of my existence on this planet, I can look back on what she did on that podium, and be proud of myself, and of her. Truly, I have accomplished something important. Now I know exactly how my parents feel on certain days.