Last night, at the last minute (and urged by an email from the parish that all the altar boys should attend the Mass in the evening), I decided to go to Mass with Sam and the baby. I know, I chickened out a bit not taking them all, but I did feed them all dinner before I left.
So we went and Sam was picked as one of the 12 altar boys to have his foot washed. In attendance there were easily over 50 altar boys last night. It was a beautiful and moving sight. Father's homily about the significance of these three days was so good.
The Eucharistic procession to place Our Lord in the altar of repose was...well, I'm not even sure how to describe it...there I was in the children's room waiting, almost holding my breath...and then I could see Father was going to pass right in front of us...I knew suddenly how the woman in the Gospel felt as Our Lord walked near her and she knew all she needed to do was touch his garment and be healed...I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that my King was indeed processing right in front of me..."There He is.", I whispered to the baby.