Clad in a summer dress, clutching some papers, the little girl wandered down my aisle and back up and then headed towards the next aisle during Mass on a recent Sunday in my parish.
She had just come from our Children’s Liturgy of the Word, a breakout time for our youngest parishioners where an adult and maybe an assistant work with the group on lessons related to the day’s Scripture passages.
There is normally a cluster of tykes marching, holding hands with siblings or hanging back a little as they head off to CLOW. And, every so often, when the time comes to return to their seats, there are sometimes one or two who can’t quite find mom, dad or another loved one.
This Sunday, the wandering child was maybe six or seven, and because I was sitting in the end of my pew I caught on quickly that she was lost. In my head, I figured I’d keep an eye on her for a few more minutes and if she still hadn’t found family I would offer to see if I could lend a hand.
“Walk up and down each aisle,” I planned to tell her, “And I guarantee your mommy or daddy will find you. Or just go up front a little bit, and they will be looking for you. They’ll come for you, I promise. No matter where you are, they will find you.”
Happily, she found her seat shortly after she trekked down that second aisle, but her journey was an everyday reminder to me of how God must view us. As I was thinking of what to say to the youngster, it occurred to me that much the same words could apply to any one of us when we are lost and cannot find our way to or back to God.
Keep walking. Keep looking. Or maybe even just stay still. He will find you.
Patricia Quigley is a member of Incarnation Parish, Mantua.