An Rud A Lionas An Tsuil Lionann Se An Croi

I used to work in a toy store in my hometown. It was an awesome job, a job I really loved, & due to the nature of it I interacted with many, many people. Some customers came in regularly enough that I was able to get to know them past the usual pleasantries. One customer that I had a real affection for was a woman named Kate. Kate is the mother of someone I went to high school with, always had a great big smile on her face, & had a distinct & cheerful way of speaking. She is also blind. Helping her always took a little bit more time than the usual amount I would spend with the average customer, but I never minded. She was so kind & appreciative that she often made me feel as though I was performing some Herculean task by helping her pick out a toy. But, and as corny as it sounds, she was providing me with a greater service - allowing me time to appreciate all the fun things we sold the way she was able to, with my hands. I'd describe toys to her as she felt them

It has been a trying winter. Sickness after sickness has plagued our household - stomach bugs, colds, everlasting coughs, pneumonia. With all of this has come sleepless nights, & with that has come two tired parents. It's not a great combination: overtired parents & sick kids. Or, really, overtired parents & kids, period. Suffice it to say, we're running low on patience these days.  Yesterday we managed to make it to Mass only ten minutes late, which means we didn't miss any of the readings (#winning). While we were settling in at the very back of the church with our coughing, sniffling brood we tried our best to be as non-disruptive as possible. In hindsight we did pretty well, considering how miserable everyone was, & got through the first two readings without incident. As we stood up to hear the Gospel, my oldest accidentally knocked over one of the missalettes, sending it down to the floor with an audible thud. My husband shot him a look & op