(no subject)

Hail Mary, full of grace,
Blessed are you among women,
nd blessed is the fruit of thy womb...

Blessed Mary. Lucky Mary. Mary, who was given the responsibility of bearing the Christ Child. Who must have been thrilled... but also scared, and lonely. Just like every other mother before her and since. And still so different.

Every child, including hers, is a spark of divinity, containing something eternal and precious. Every child, including hers, a bundle of talents and gifts. But she and Joseph, alone of all parents got something more. The certain knowledge that, no matter how poor they were at being parents, how unprepared, how much they lacked... their child would live up to his potential. He was divine, incapable of failure or error. Blessed Mary, indeed.

For the rest of us... there is the moment when we look into our children's eyes and wonder, are we raising the next Ghandi, or the next Manson? We love, we shape, we influence, acting in the blind, and we do not know until later -- sometimes we never know -- whether we have any effect, and what that effect might be.

Blessed the women, tonight, and doubly blessed the men, who shape the lives of children, who choose to love and nurture without guarantees, and to bear the weight of not knowing what the future holds.